


Salvation

by ItchyToaster



Series: Godless and Free [2]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Eventual Romance, F/M, Injury, M/M, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, Multi, Religion, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2019-06-15 22:35:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 30,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15423108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItchyToaster/pseuds/ItchyToaster
Summary: “Thus says the Lord God: “You were the signet of perfection, full of wisdom and perfect in beauty. You were in Eden, the garden of God; every precious stone was your covering, sardius, topaz, and diamond, beryl, onyx, and jasper, sapphire, emerald, and carbuncle; and crafted in gold were your settings and your engravings. On the day that you were created, they were prepared. You were an anointed guardian cherub. I placed you; you were on the holy mountain of God; in the midst of the stones of fire, you walked. You were blameless in your ways from the day you were created, till unrighteousness was found in you. In the abundance of your trade, you were filled with violence in your midst, and you sinned; so I cast you as a profane thing from the mountain of God, and I destroyed you, O guardian cherub, from the midst of the stones of fire.” -Ezekiel 28:12-19(or the reddie angel au no one asked for)





	1. “...then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.”

**Author's Note:**

> oh jeez it’s here! This is my baby, my brainchild, this fic means the world to me and I hope you all love it just as much as I do. HUGE thank you to [hypnoidvoid,](https://hypnoidvoid.tumblr.com/) who edited most of this at like… 5 in the morning while I was crying over her Alice In Wonderland fic (which, by the way, if you haven’t read you MUST.) anyways, I'll be posting the first four chapters throughout the week and then this fic will be updated bi-monthly, so the fifth chapter will be out August 1st, and then the 15th, and so on and so forth. Please, let me know how you all like it! Trust me, this is gonna be an insane ride, my friends. 
> 
> Also, the playlist gives hints into the plot so give it a listen ;)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [Playlist to listen to while reading](https://open.spotify.com/user/razumorxie/playlist/21wzdXSnDuOEsIF69G925X)  
> [Inspo Song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dsWDUvuF0Xc)

It was custom for each angel to listen to the prayers of their people from time to time, some doing so more than others. Within the Hall of Voices, the Angels of Earth and Sun were often found reading through prayer books and listening to the many voices of thanks they would receive, knowing that their work on Earth was blessing the creations they adored. Stanley and Michael would urge the other angels among the Council to do the same. **  
**

Mike knew that the task could be agonizing at times. The way that the voices would cloud minds with a hypnotic thrum made it difficult to pull away from the whispers and murmurs that would line the pages of each book. But, as one of the higher angels on the Council, Mike knew he had to set the right example for the rest.

He and Eddie were talking quietly about the matter before they both went to their respective rooms, and Mike listened intently as Eddie voiced his concerns about listening to his followers. The rest of the Council were very aware that the voices that called to Eddie were not often ones of thanks.

“I’m just… scared.” Eddie admitted, eyes shifting away from Mike’s kind gaze.

“You have to listen to them once in a while,” He said to Eddie in the halls of their rooms. His voice was a hushed, gentle sound that made Eddie start to relax. Mike was aware that the Angel of Healing always looked to the door to the Hall of Voices with a glimmer of fear in his eye. “Even if it means hearing their pain… you have to try.” He could see the way Eddie’s gaze shifted nervously under the flicker of the oil lamp. Mike placed a gentle hand on the smaller angel’s shoulder, giving him a smile before walking down the large hallways to his room.

Eddie was left by the door to his own bedroom, watching the corridor to Mike’s room begin to darken as oil lamps were beginning to be put out. The voice of the angel rang in his ears like a chord.

As the angel of Healing and Health, Eddie’s prayers were often ones of sorrow, and the sound of those aching mortals begging for his aid plagued every thought he had, making him stay up through the night with their cries of a God that never was. He had heard rumors of the people’s peril and their suffering, and Eddie couldn’t bear to listen to the thousands of pained voices begging for his aid, which he knew was impossible to provide.

But, he knew it was best to take Mike’s advice. The angel was often right when it came to the affairs of the humans.

The young angel left the doorway to his chambers, making his way through the darkened corridors of the castle to the Hall of Voices, which was conveniently next to the library for one angel that adored both sections of their vast dwelling. The darkened passageways were deserted, and the only thing that helped Eddie find his way was the moon that hung high in the sky, painting pictures with the dark shadows that were cast onto the floor.

As he approached the doors, Eddie could feel his chest tighten. The angel swallowed the large lump that had formed in his throat, looking up at the large doors that lead into the Hall.

 _“It’s nothing. There’s nothing to worry about.”_ He whispered under his breath like a mantra, trying to remain strong, though his golden wings had curled inward to protect him from the things that he knew could do no harm. His fingers gripped the metal handle, pulling and pulling until the large thing opened with the groan of a slumbering beast. The echoing noise made the poor being jump out of his skin, and his feathers clung to him in protection.

In the warm lighting of the many candles, Eddie could see a tall figure move among the shelves. A head turned to the sound of the door, and the being smiled as Eddie entered. The figure that occupied The Hall of Voices was Benjamin, angel of Wisdom and Virtue. Ben had always adored the history of both humans and angels, and took pride in cataloging and organizing each book that was filled with the voices of Earth. Through the hours of the day and night, the angel would be placing the large novels on shelves for others to pick up.

“Eddie! What a surprise.” Benjamin smiled, pushing a heavily worn book into its proper place before walking over to greet his friend. Eddie couldn’t help but smile at the familiar warm face, waving back to him silently as he tried to tamper the firing of his nerves. “What brings you here at such a late hour?”

Ben smiled, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at Eddie. The Angel of Wisdom was about to leave the Hall himself and being the ‘Gatekeeper’ of voices, he was aware that Eddie rarely stepped foot in the Hall. Every angel on the Council knew that his worshipers had nothing but misery for Eddie.

“I… I just came to listen,” Eddie said slowly, the words coming out with practice, as he rarely said them. The thoughts still scared him, and he tried to wrap himself in Ben’s warm presence. That smile made him feel safer than the shelter his golden wings had created around his arms and shoulders.

Ben nodded silently, trying to hide the solemn look on his face as he went to retrieve the book of prayers meant for the Angel of Health and Melody. It was a cumbersome thing, and in it carried the weight of every human’s plea for redemption. Eddie looked at it, eyes flickering with a glimmer of trepidation. Something horrible between the worn pages rippled and groaned, an energy that struck Eddie numb.

“I was about to leave but…” Ben started, seeing the nauseated, terrified look plastered on the other angel’s face. “I can stay if you like.”

Though the book was still closed when Ben set the heaving thing on the table in front of him, Eddie felt something grip at his lungs and twist his spine. The book radiated a terrible aura that only he could feel. That was only meant for  _him_.

He opened his mouth, unsure of how to answer. “I… Its fine. You can go. Sorry for bothering you.” Eddie looked at Ben with an apologetic smile, and the other angel just nodded, wishing him ‘good night’ before walking away. Eddie watched him leave, still feeling a shiver run through him when he glanced in the book’s direction.

Once Ben’s figure disappeared around the side of the large door, Eddie’s attention was once again gripped by the heavy thing in front of him. The cover was worn, a thin film of dust overlay the inscription of the Caduceus and Harp. His fingers brushed away the substance, watching as the dust flew up into the air, catching the soft light of the candles that surrounded him.

He gripped the book until his fingertips were about halfway through the entirety of the pages before slowly breaking it open. The left side of the book fell back onto the table with a heavy thud, the sound thrumming through the hall and making Eddie tense. The ink on the pages were thin, faded. But still, without ever pressing his palms to the paper, he could already hear the whispers and murmurs that rose from the ink.

Eddie’s fingers trembled, his palms were slick with sweat as he pressed his hands on either page, eyes slowly closing. He braced himself for a cry, a scream, a yell, but instead, he was met with a tender, soft voice.

 _‘Edward, my God,’_  It was the soft voice of a man. Eddie could hear the sorrow in his voice, but the words were kind, gentle. ‘ _I thank you for watching over my family. Your blessing has saved my darlings Esther and Eve. You have carried them from the depths and without your watchful eye, my children would have perished. Thank you, Edward.’_

A gasp was dragged from his throat as his eyes flickered open. He quickly pulled his hands away, feeling a rush pour over him. Looking down at the book in astonishment, his breath was heavy and slow as he began to process those words. He couldn’t help but smile with relief, letting out a sigh. The tension in his shoulder started to ease, and Eddie became more relaxed.

 _‘Wasn’t so bad.’_  He thought, turning through the book a bit more to another series of prayers. The ink on the pages he found were darker, newer. Eddie’s fingertips traced the letters, becoming eager to hear what his worshipers had to say.

 _‘Edward…’_  It was the sorrowful voice of a woman. Eddie could hear the pain as she spoke.  _‘My son is ill. I come to you to ask that you heal him, help him. He needs your strength, Edward. Please, I beg for your aid.’_

 _‘Angel of Health,’_ The words that inundated his mind started to soothe the young angel of his worries. Each voice was filled with thanks, kindness, devotion.  _‘Benevolent Creator,’_  The angel started to become fonder of listening to each human. Though he would hear a plea for his aid,  _‘Edward, hear me,’_  the Angel of Health would still listen intently, giving his blessing and aid in return to mothers with sick children and sons wounded in battle.  _‘Great Angel of Healing,’_ The voices that cascaded over the angel made him relax to the sound of their prayers, finding himself engrossed in their stories, their trails, their words of thanks and adoration.

Eddie stayed within the Hall of Voice for hours, thumbing through pages and pages of murmurs and whispers. The worn pages became a comfort, the soft texture brushing against Eddie’s fingertips as the turned each page over to listen and read the texts of thousands. He started to turn further and further to the end, each page inching closer and closer to present day.

The young angel finally reached the last of the inked pages, the text smeared and blurry. Eddie squinted as he tried to make out the language, but the handwriting was enough to make him puzzled. He pressed his fingertips against the smeared ink. A shudder ran through him out of pure reflex, and his wings were once again hugging his frame. Though Eddie knew better to close the enormous thing, his curiosity gnawed at him ceaselessly. Having never touched the Earth before, Eddie now yearned to understand the nature of such a world, and longed to know more. Something about the ink called to him, whispered with a request for him to listen, to understand, and he could hear the hushed voices as his eyes closed and his hands pressed to the dark pools of cryptic ink.

_‘SAVE US!’_

The voice howled like a mother giving birth, and the scream of something wild and tumultuous ripped through his ears, crying his name with ripped, bloody vocal chords and gnashing teeth.

 _‘EDWARD,’_ The voice was contorted and monstrous. Eddie tried to pull his hands away from the now coarse, hot paper, but something pulled him closer to the heat, calling his name over and over with cries and sobs of a savior. His fingertips were burning, his skin went clammy with sweat as he tried to pull away from the mangled, gruesome sounds that we against his ears.

_‘SAVE US EDWARD, SAVE US! ANGEL OF HEALTH AND MELODY, O’ KIND AND BEAUTIFUL ONE, PLEASE SAVE OUR VISION FROM THE BLIND!’_

A scream pierced his ears and voices flooded every inch of his being, making him tremble and shiver under the screeching sound of some thundering beast. The voices clammered and yelped, and Eddie swore he could feel mangled fingertips and wet skin surrounding his body, clawing and pulling at his hands through the pages for some type of liberation. Eddied pulled and struggled, his skin hot and burning as hands climbed his skin and pulled at his wings, the voices deep in his eardrum hissing and calling for his presence.

_‘HEAL US, ANGEL. SAVE US FROM DARKNESS! PLEASE, POWERFUL ONE, SAVE--’_

Quiet.

Suddenly the terrible thing was trapped within the pages of the book, leaving Eddie’s hands trembling on the pages and his eyes still closed. Silence fell. Eddie tried to pull away. As he did, he felt a cold, soft, hand suddenly take hold of his wrist, squeezing him tight. The long bony fingers wrapped around him, holding Eddie with a bone-breaking grip.

_‘Eds-’_

His auburn eyes shot open with surprise, and before he could even determine if there was a hand on his own, he tore away with a yell, slamming the book shut and pushing to the other side of the table.

Sweat dripped down his arms as he quickly drew away from the worn book in front of him. He shook in his spot, unable to help the way his wings encircled his own body. Slowly, he knelt onto the floor, body becoming incredibly small. He could feel his own hot tears starting to drip down his cheeks, letting them fall onto his own trembling gold wings. He wrapped his arms around himself in a tight grip, trying to pull himself back into his own body, as if his soul had been taken by the book itself.

Edward frantically tried to catch his breath as he sat on his knees. His fingers tugged at his own skin, trying to wrench himself away from those terrible voices and those forsaken demands. They still clouded his mind, begging for his attention. His mind was still filled with the agonizing prayers of thousands, all with broken voices and pained words begging for him. His hands covered his face, feeling his skin become hot to the touch like fire.

A sob began to echo through the Hall of Voices.


	2. “I love those who love me, and those who seek me diligently find me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are liking it so far! Fear not, all will be explained in due time if you feel a hole in the story. And yes, you will see our beloved Richie soon enough <33

**  
**A heavy rapping came from the other side of Beverly’s door, making her stir in her sheets. A groan came from her in response, refusing to rise. When she didn’t answer the knock, the door creaked open, and Beverly shifted in the bed quickly to pretend to still be asleep. Beverly was aware of her status in the heavens, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy sleeping a day or two away. **  
**

Under her white sheets, she could hear the shifting of another from the threshold of her door. Beverly waited patiently for the stranger to start speaking but didn’t hear a thing from the unknown party. As she waited, she could feel an awkwardness pour into the room, enveloping what was a peaceful state. When she couldn’t hear a thing from within the four walls of her room, Beverly rose, assuming she was alone, only to see Benjamin standing in the doorway with a smile.

“Took you long enough.” He laughed, and Beverly only glared, pulling her lips into a smile at the sight of the other angel. Her arms reached to the sky, and her dark red wings moved with her as she tilted back, stretching her spine. Beverly’s shimmering ruby wings spread with her arms before she got out of bed, limbs slowly becoming familiar with walking again.

“What is it?” She asked with a yawn, walking into her bathroom.

Ben stepped through the doorway, closing it behind himself and setting himself on the edge of Beverly’s bed. He stared at his own hands in thought as if hoping the words would be written there, but only finding ink stains that never seemed to wash off. “It’s Eddie…” He started slowly, gaze shifting upwards, but unable to find Beverly. In her place was the sound of water being poured into a basin from the bathroom.

“Is he okay?” Her voice echoed, and Ben waited on the side of the unmade bed, instead making conversation from room to room.

“He didn’t say much, but he seems pretty shaken up. Bill called for the six of us to meet this morning because of it, though.”

At this, an annoyed groan came from the bathroom. “Of course he does.” Beverly said with a huff, walking out in silk linens and damp hair. Ben smiled up at her, his eyes filled with adoration for the other angel. “What?” She asked, a smile in her voice as she inched towards Ben. The angel shook his head, wrapping his arms around the red-headed beauty once she approached him.

“You’re just so beautiful.” He hummed, exchanging a chaste kiss with Beverly. His fingers drew gentle circles into her waist as his brown eyes admired her silently. Though Ben refrained from doing so, he couldn’t help but become attached to the Angel of Love. Her green eyes sunk into his skin. The gaze that moved over him made Ben feel warm and safe, and his arms wrapped just a bit tighter around her waist.

A blush painted Beverly’s cheeks, with a bashful laugh bubbling from her throat in response. She inched closer to his face, and their lips met with a slow, tender kiss. Ben couldn’t help the smile that tugged on his lips as he kissed Beverly, his hands gently rubbing patterns into the white fabric that covered her skin. “I love you.” He whispered softly as they broke the kiss, and his wide brown eyes stared up at his lover with all the affection he could muster.

“I love you too…” Beverly smiled, her thumb rubbing Ben’s jawline as she got lost in his gaze.  She kissed Ben again, tender hands cupping his jaw as she did so. “C’mon we better get going then.”

..

The Great Hall was deserted, and the seats that were usually filled with other angels were vacant, making the already large room seem impossibly vast with its high ceilings and towering windows. Mike, Stanley, Beverly, and Ben were already seated, voices echoing around them as they spoke.

“I shouldn’t have told him to go…” Mike groaned, holding his head in his hands while Stanley stroked his lover’s shimmering black wings.

“Don’t beat yourself up, none of us could have known. It’s not your fault.” Stan kissed his counterpart’s temple, making Mike lift his head up, dark eyes filled with sorrow. He tried to manage a weak smile, the sight of his lover putting him at ease.  Ben opened his mouth to reply, but his attention turned to the opening of the door to the Great Hall.

In stepped Eddie, his body barely visible as his golden wings were tight around his shoulders. Bill walked next to him, his face unable to hide the worry that had troubled him all morning.

“Hey, guys.” Eddie smiled, but his voice was hoarse when he spoke.

“Eddie are you okay?” Beverly tried to mask the shock in her voice at the state of her friend. Eddie nodded, sitting to Ben’s right. He let out a shaking breath while Bill sat down in between Ben and Mike. “What happened?” She asked, leaning forward in her seat.

Eddie sighed, eyes diverting to the floor as he spoke, accounting the previous night. He tried to keep it as brief as possible, his dreams still haunted by what he heard while in the Hall of  Voices. “I… I don’t know what it was. That’s not normal, is it?” He asked, turning his attention to Ben.

The other angel shook his head silently, still writing down Eddie’s description of his time within the Hall. “I’ve never heard of anything like that. What did you say it was?”

“The ‘Blind.’ It said ‘save us from the Blind.’” Eddie said, eyes still averting from the concerned gazes of his friends.

“What does that even mean?” Beverly’s brow knitted, looking over at Ben, who only shrugged in response. “It may just be some human—”

“But it wasn’t,” Eddie interjected immediately, and the look he gave Ben was one filled with pain. “It was something else… like a monster.” Their eyes met, and the fearful look that dwelled in Eddie’s was all Ben needed to understand what he meant. He inhaled wearily, writing down what Eddie had said.

“It could have only come from Earth, though… right?” Stan asked, and Bill nodded.

“Whatever it was can be found on Earth. It’s probably nothing dangerous.” Bill offered, and his opinion helped ease the fear off of Eddie’s mind. The Highest Angel’s word was always taken with the utmost respect and attention, all aware that his wisdom surpassed them. Although his words were meant to calm the Council, Mike still shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Eddie.” Mike looked at his counterpart with sorrowful eyes, knowing how painful it must have been to listen to such terrible noise. Eddie shook his head. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known anyways.” The younger angel offered with a weak smile. Mike nodded, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. “ I just… I don’t understand why it was you, Eddie.” Mike sighed, resting his elbows on the wooden table.

The question perplexed Eddie as well, but before he could dwell any longer on the subject, Bill interjected again. “Like I said, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah, at least not now.” Beverly huffed, arms folded as she leaned back in her seat. Her green eyes met Bill’s. “What if it is something. Someone should go find out.” She continued, looking around at the others in attendance for any ideas.

“Stanley and I can’t.” Mike said quickly, and Stan nodded, their fingers absent-mindedly intertwined to comfort one another. Beverly nodded in agreement, looking to Bill.

“Well?” She asked. “If it’s nothing, why don’t you go?” Bill shook his head, about to reason why when he was cut off.

“I’ll go.” Eddie said softly, and the other five looked at him in confusion.

“Eddie no, what if it tries to—”

“It’s nothing, right? And it asked for me, so… I should go.” He shrugged, and the others stayed silent, knowing that it was impossible to talk Eddie down when he made his mind up.

“And what you said earlier…” Ben hummed, gazing over what he had written so far. “That’s all that happened?”

Eddie froze, swallowing thickly. The expression was a telling sign that he was withholding information from the rest. “Eddie…” Beverly said slowly, looking to the other angel. Eddie looked back, unable to hide anything from those intimidating green eyes.

“No. It’s not… there—” He sighed, eyes closing. “After the voices stopped it was all silent,” He looked up, seeing Ben writing more in the worn journal. “And I heard Richie’s voice.”

“Wait— _what_?” Bev’s eyes widened, and Ben’s head shot up. Eddie looked around, Bill looked physically surprised, as did Stan and Mike. Eddie only nodded.

“Just him. I felt his hand hold mine, and he called me ‘ _Eds_ ’,” The mention of the nickname made the others on the council smile fondly, remembering their old friend from centuries ago. “But that was it. He didn’t speak to me at all. It was just that.”

The others stayed silent, surprised expressions still plastered on their faces. It took them a few moments before a voice broke their shocked trance.

“Do you think he’s still alive?” Stan asked, mostly to Eddie, but also to the rest of the table.

“Maybe. If his Mask is still intact he wouldn’t age.” Ben offered, being the one behind the design of the tools that allowed angels to take human form. Bill hummed in thought, still feeling a bit of rage burn within him from their last encounter over two-hundred years ago.

“Do you think he remembers?” Bill asked, and Ben shrugged in response. “I doubt that. If he takes his human form often his memories of being an angel have probably faded quite a bit.” They all looked at Eddie at that, knowing the history the two shared together.

“Is that why you want to go?” Mike asked.

“What? No. Ben said he wouldn’t even remember me—”

“But he did call you ‘Eds’,” Beverly mused, her lips pulling into a small smile. Eddie shook his head pinching the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb.

“That was it. I don’t even know if it was actually him or not. I just,” Eddie sighed, looking back up at the faces around him. “Everyone else  _has_  a job up here. Considering we never get hurt there isn’t really a point of me staying here.” The others hummed in agreement as his reasoning. “And I’ve never been to Earth. I’d really like to go.” Eddie smiled, remembering all the stories that Mike and Stan would share when they would travel down from the heavens to explore the oceans and forests.

“He’s right,” Mike hummed, looking to the Highest Angel for a response. He only sat silently, pondering over his options.

“Bill…” Beverly sighed when he didn’t speak, looking at him with annoyance. “Just… get over your fear for once. If  he’s alive, Eddie might be able to bring Richie back  _home_.” Their eyes all glanced at the vacant seat that was in between Eddie and Beverly. That thought made Bill’s stoic expression break into a weak smile.

“Okay.” He finally said, looking at Eddie to see him smiling. “Just please be careful. Ben,” Bill looked at the angel, whose head turned up at the sound of his name. “You have a Mask for Eddie, right?” Ben nodded with a smile.

..

Eddie’s back was against the worktable while Ben move about the workshop, talking quietly to no one in particular. “Now where did I put it…” He hummed softly, looking through boxes and boxes, opening and closing them until he came across the right one. “Ah-hah!”

The exclamation made Eddie’s head turn to the source of the sound, seeing Ben walking over to him with a pleased smile on his face. “You’re really gonna like these.”

Eddie had heard of Masks that Ben had created centuries back when he would go to the temples on Earth. He constructed a small golden band for himself, one that he only wore when he was planning on going back down to Earth. Once Stanley and Mike asked if they too could have their own, with Ben obliging in creating Masks for each member on the Council, with the thought that some would use theirs more than others.

“Do you know how it works?” Ben asked, setting the small box on the table. Eddie shook his head, watching Ben open the box to reveal two golden bracelets. Each piece was constructed with two snakes that coiled up and around like the Caduceus. Eddie’s eyes widened at the sight, reaching to touch them but he was stopped by Ben. “If you don’t know how to use them I have to show you first.”

Eddie frowned. “I know what they do! I’ve  _heard_  of them.” He reasoned, but Ben shook his head.

“No, Eddie. Or you’ll get hurt.” Eddie sighed, knowing that Ben was right, and let him continue. “Only wear these if you’re going down to Earth,” Ben instructed, taking one of the long bracelets from it’s secure box. “And if you want to stay human, keep them on.  You’ll still be able to use your powers, but the minute you even take one off, it’s game over.”

Eddie nodded, eyes fixed on the golden jewelry in Ben’s hand. “And be careful with them.” Though it was an order, Ben’s voice was a plea, placing one of the bracelets in Eddie’s hands. “Especially for you. If you break one of them while on Earth, you can’t come back. The years may catch up to you and well…” Ben’s voice trailed off, eyes diverting from Eddie’s. “Up here, it’s no problem, but please,” Ben’s eyes locked with Eddie’s. “Don’t break them.”

Again, Eddie nodded, slipping one of the bands past his hands and onto his wrists. The metal was cool, heavy weight on his arm, and he started to admire the way the gold seemed to make his olive skin glow. “Thanks, Ben.” He smiled, looking back up at his friend.

“It’s no problem.” Ben smiled back, offering the second bracelet to Eddie. “Good luck.”


	3. “...in his illness you restore him to full health.”

Eddie rose from his spot in the grass, looking around with confusion and wonder. Above him, trees towered, shielding him from the sun’s rays. A hush from their leaves surrounding Eddie. He tried to account for everything, ruminating in thought. His fingertips mused the blades of grass, his eyes took in the lush forestry, his ears listened to the quiet peaceful song of the trees and land. 

Shoulders rolled. Arms stretched. His hands reached back to feel his wings but found only bare skin covered by soft silk. The feeling was peculiar, but he felt almost weightless without the heavy golden wings. He got to his feet, looking around with a small smile on his face.

 

So this was Earth. It was a beautiful place, Eddie decided, and he wandered aimlessly through the tall trees, guided only by instinct and scattered footprints that all seemed to point in a similar direction. So naturally, he followed. 

  
  


The city that stood across from the forest that Eddie found himself in was filled with dust and people. When Eddie walked through, clouds blurring his vision and making it impossible to move through the tight streets. He was bombarded with commodities, bodies, voices, noise, dust, so, so much dust. It made Eddie cough and wheeze, the uncomfortable feeling in his lungs something he had never fallen victim to before as an angel. 

Though the angel-turned-human was smaller than most that moved through the crowded street, Eddie pushed through, taking in as much as he could. He had never seen humans in his life, and so many at once bombarded the young angel with information he hardly processed as he crawled, pushed, and shoved through bodies, eventually finding an empty alleyway to stop in. Eddie leaned against the brick wall, gasping softly and closing his eyes.

 

So  _ this _ was Earth. Eddie cursed himself for even attempting to try and come to Earth, even if he wanted his stay to be as brief as possible. He thought to himself, wracking his brain to try and remember what Mike and Ben had told him before he left. 

 

_ “Get to the temple. It’ll be easiest to find out what you heard from there. _ ” Right. The temple. Wherever that was. Eddie had not the faintest idea where his own place of worship was, and from the looks of the crowd he had just gone through, he knew that it would be difficult to find an answer within it. Eddie sighed and exited the alleyway from the other side, walking down beaten paths next to homes. The trail was silent, allowing Eddie to think for a moment about how to go about finding where he needed to go. It was silent, until a scream broke from a house just a few buildings down from where Eddie stood. 

 

The sound made Eddie’s brow knit in confusion, and he stopped for a moment, unsure if he was complete certain that what he heard was—

“Help! Please, someone, help!”

 

The angel rushed to the sounds of pain, knocking quickly on the door. It was opened almost immediately by a young woman, her eyes wide and pooling with tears. “My son,  _ my son _ ,” She babbled.

“Is everything okay? I—” Eddie stopped, trying to figure out how to address himself in his new form. “I’m a doctor.” The young mother quickly stepped aside, and Eddie rushed in, seeing a young boy shaking and groaning on his place surrounded by cloths and blankets.

“He’s been sick for weeks. No one knows what’s wrong.” The words were barely able to pass her lips without completely sobbing, and Eddie looked at her with sorrowful eyes before getting to his knees next to her child.

 

The sight was sickening, horrifying. The boy looked no more than nine, maybe ten years old. His eyes were red and swollen,  inflamed yellow rings surrounding his brown irises. Boils covered every inch of his skin like fleshy hills and mountains. His chest and arms were swollen. Sickeningly sticky puss oozed from every open sore and wound. He only coughed weakly, the sound wet and gargling as blood seeped from the corners of his mouth. 

 

Eddie swallowed thickly, almost too repulsed to behold the sight, but the soft sobs of the invalid’s mother made him stay and made him examine the small boy. “How…” Oh and the smell. When Eddie opened his mouth to speak he could taste the bitter, acidic taste of something dying. There was a metallic taste to it from the boy’s blood splitting and cauterizing with the yellow mess on his skin creating thick, drying coats of disgusting dark liquid. 

 

“How are you still healthy?” Eddie finally managed, looking back up at the young woman. She only shook her head. 

“I don’t know. Kay has been just getting worse and worse but I haven’t felt a thing.” She said almost helplessly, because she was healthy and was devoid of understanding and truly empathizing with what her poor son was going through. Eddie chewed on his lower lip, watching the boy writhe on the floor in agony, more blood dripping from the crevices of his chapped lips.

 

“Who…”  The boy gurgled, hand limply taking Eddie’s. “...are you?” The mother rushed to his side, fingers gently running through the boy’s blond hair.

She hushed him softly, eyes glazed with tears as she watched her dying son. “He’s a doctor, sweetheart. He’s going to help you.” The boy only nodded, his face unchanged after seeing so many doctors and still becoming worse.

 

“Would you mind boiling water for him, uh,” Eddie looked up at the woman, her name still unknown to him. 

 

“Alexandrea.” She finished for him, getting to her feet again and rushing out of the small room. Eddie turned his attention back to Kay, who only looked up at him with a confused gaze. The look was one that Eddie had never seen before. It wasn’t a fear of dying that was in the child’s eyes, but something much more treacherous.

 

“Y-you…” Kay groaned. “C-can’t help me.”

Eddie swallowed thickly. “Yes I can.” His voice was soft, hushed, and the young boy’s brow furrowed. Eddie  looked around to make sure the mother was out of sight, letting out a shaking breath. He couldn’t bear to look at Kay’s sickly state, closing his eyes in concentration.

Eddie opened his hands, palms facing upwards, trying to work quickly before Alexandrea came back. Small golden swirls of light started to pour from his bracelets, wrapping around his wrists and fingers. Kay gasped, and Eddie looked at the boy, pressing a finger to his own lips to keep him quiet.

 

Kay fell silent, watching Eddie’s fingers become bright, golden sources of light, hands touching the boy’s open wounds on his stomach. Eddie watched the light coiling around Kay’s body in thin beams. Slowly, his skin started to heal. Wounds sealed shut, the blood disappearing at the light illuminated every inch of his bruised skin. The boils and bumps that once turned Kay’s skin into a mess of rosy, gooey lumps all faded, reversing the boy’s symptoms completely. 

 

Eddie looked up at Kay’s face, the rings of yellow that were around his brown irises were wide, hypnotized by Eddie’s healing light. The sight puzzled Eddie, but he didn’t bother to stop until Kay’s sickness had disappeared, leaving his skin smooth and healed as if Eddie had turned back time. 

 

Kay’s eyes met Eddie’s, and the angel swore he saw the yellow rings in his eyes flicker and fade like an oil lamp being put out. The boy blinked, and his eyes were back to normal, but still wide with wonder when he looked at Eddie. “You’re—” Eddie shook his head silently, finger pressed to his own lips again. The boy closed his mouth, watching Eddie get to his feet and quickly leave without another word.

As Eddie hurried down the street, he could hear the now-delighted cries of Alexandrea echo through the alleyways. Eddie smiled a bit, knowing he was able to help the woman and her child. He tried to move as quickly as possible, knowing that stopping even for a moment meant the risk of getting caught. 

 

Once the noise of the mother was muted by the sound of the city, Eddie began to relax, once again maneuvering through large crowds and swarms of people. He stumbled into what looked to be a bar, the place seeming to block out the noise that saturated the rest of the city. It was peppered with silent customers, all eyeing the unfamiliar man with a weary gaze. 

 

He slowly approached the bartender, his dark eyes and bushy brow knitted with a peculiar look at the stranger who entered. The young angel swallowed thickly, kindly asking for a glass of water to aid with the sudden dry feeling in his throat. Though his voice was low, he could still feel all eyes on him as if he had hollered. 

 

“Who are you?” The bartender asked curiously, looking the taut man up and down. Eddie sat down, taking the cup of water handed to him. 

“My name’s Edward.  I’m a traveling doctor… looking for work.” Eddie said slowly before gulping the water down.

“Doctor, huh?” The man in front of him mused. “You must have heard about the kids, then?”

Eddie blinked, brow furrowed. “The… what?”

“The kids? Half of their families go to the king every day to ask for help.” The bartender explained with a heavy sigh, and Eddie’s mind lingered on Kay.

 

“Like they’re going to get any.” Another voice muttered, and Eddie’s eyes shifted to see a man with dark, wild hair sitting back in his seat, sipping his drink without another word. “Who...” Eddie asked slowly, though he was sure he was aware of the answer. “Who  _ is  _ the king?” 

The bartender blinked, his heavy set brow knitted with a bit of confusion. “You don’t know?” Eddie shook his head in response, allowing the bartender to fill his cup again. The man across the counter shook his head resting his large muscular arms on the table. He opened his mouth to speak, but his attention diverted, looking at something behind Eddie, eyes widening slightly.

 

“How can I help you gentlemen?” He asked by cooly raising himself up. Eddie dared not to turn his back, afraid of what he would turn to face. 

“We were sent by the king, looking for a doctor.”

 

“Well, there are many doctors around the city. Why? Has the childish king fallen ill?” The bartender mused, but was silent when the two men moved closer, their shadows outlined on the wall behind him. Eddie shifted uncomfortably but kept his eyes forward. His orbs swept to the bartender, who's once stoic nature was molded into a mask to hide the fear that dwelled within him. 

 

“He’s healed a child, a child that was sick with the infant plague.” A voice behind him said, making Eddie go rigid. 

 

“Impossible. Those kids were destined for death that's why it's impossible to cure.” The bartender growled, and his eyes met Eddie's for a second with a bit of curiosity. “...were you given a name?”

“The woman said he came from Edward, God of Healing and Melody.” Eddie lost his breath for a moment, the bartender's eyes becoming wide for a moment. He shook his head, however, and Eddie relaxed.

“No, haven't—”

 

“That's him.” The man who had sat silently from the other side of the room said in a loud voice, finger pointing in Eddie's direction. “He's Edward.” 

Large hands gripped Eddie's shoulders, hoisting him from his seat with ease. He was turned around to face the grim looking men, both as tall as they were strong. The doctor cowered in their presence, icy in a dialysis of stricken fear.

 

“You're Edward?”

Eddie shook his head tentatively.

 

“His Majesty, King Richard has requested your presence.”


	4. “… Show me, O Lord… how fleeting is my life…”

As the sun’s rays kissed pale skin, a figure within the large canopy bed groaned, shifting with under the sheets. Something in his bones ached as he started to rise, cracking and creaking when his arms reached to the sky. 

 

A hand carded through soft tousled black hair, and as his dark eyes opened to look at the sunrise, he could feel a pounding within his skull as a reminder to the previous night. Before he could move to get out of bed, hands brushed against his chest, and a soft voice came from the other side of the bed. 

 

“Richard…” The young woman called, her soft eyes gazing up at her King longingly, with a silent plead for him to stay. 

 

Richie’s head turned away from the window to look down at the stranger tangled in his sheets, her blonde hair seeming to shimmer against the sun’s rays. A tired, but forced smile curved his lips, with his fingers running through the woman’s hair with ease. As his eyes looked at her with mock-affection, he fished through his own mind to find her name. Richie remembered her hushed voice whispering it in his ear the previous night, wet lips hastily moving down the column of his throat in a gesture of affection, but as her body lay in his sheets, he had not the faintest clue what name was bestowed on her. 

 

“What is it?” His fingers somehow intertwined with the other’s as he spoke. The act was odd and foreign, making Richie pull his hand away. The maiden’s gaze faltered for a moment but was soon composed again.

“Please stay…” She purred, body rising up with slow, fluid motions. The white sheets draped over her shoulders, hiding the curve of her breast that Richie started to become all too familiar with.

“You know I can’t.” The man sighed, though his eyes climbed up and down the body in his bed. Richie had made a point to never get attached to any person he took into his chambers, but the way the nameless woman looked at him had the King starting to move back into bed. Her blue eyes gazed up at him drawing temptation, and as he leaned in closer, the sheets fell off her soft skin, exposing her breasts.

 

“Please?” She asked again, her lips close to the man’s.

 

Richie let out a heavy breath, licking his lips. His eyes dragged up the woman’s body, fingers cupping her jaw. 

“Just for a minute.” Richie hummed before pressing his lips against the stranger in his bed. His movements were hungry, quick, and his hands were already pulling her body into his lap. Richie’s wet lips were trailing down pale skin, hands running over smooth porcelain that he had already become acquainted with the previous night. Above him, he could hear breathless whispers of approval, and long fingers tangled in his hair tugging him closer.

 

Richie’s lips kissed the woman’s collarbone, teeth grazing over skin that pulled a groan from the stranger above him. He chuckled softly, hands groping and massaging the young woman’s breasts while his mouth sucked bruises into her neck. Before long, Richie’s hands were pulling her closer into his lap, lips suckling and teeth bared at the nameless human’s front. 

Above him, he could hear a litany of moans pour from her lips, fingers tugging and musing his hair as his tongue licked teasingly over her nipples.

 

“Rich— oh  _ please— _ ” She moaned, her voice now breathless and needy. Richie only chuckled, the woman’s skin still being kissed and nipped. His hand slipped between her thighs, stroking and teasing her slowly. Each movement pulled another breathless cry for more, and his dark curls became tangled in the woman’s fingers. 

Slowly, Richie pulled away completely, laying her down on the sheets. He left rushed kisses down her chest and waist, hands spreading her legs wide while grazing his wet lips along her inner thighs.

 

“Please, Richard,  _ please _ .” She whispered breathlessly, completely drunk on her King’s attention. Richie only looked up, lapping her thigh one last time before he started leaving messy, wet adorations on her entrance. Above him, the young woman started to moan breathlessly, her fingers once again pulling at his hair while his tongue flicked wildly into her warmth. His hands kept her angled legs spread, and his lips glided seamlessly until her soft moans begun to engulf his chambers. 

His dark eyes flicked up for a moment, watching her back arch off the sheets while his tongue flicked frantically over her clitoris. The movement soon had her unraveling, gasping as Richie helped her come down from her high.

 

Richie pulled up, lips dripping as he did so. The body in front of him writhed with pleasure, her chest still heaving while her hands gripped the sheets. Richie moistened his lips while his fingers gently stroked her walls and watched as the blonde cried out from the overstimulation, eyes shutting tight. The sight was gorgeous, but as he watched the stranger relax he pulled away, something within him stirred with guilt. 

 

The figure rose up in bed, a lucid smile on her face as she pressed a kiss to Richie’s lips, but the man made no effort to return the gesture. He moved away, and the young woman reached out for his hand, her sultry voice whispering about  _ ‘taking care’  _ of him, but Richie had no interest. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, feeling soft hands rub his back.

 

“C’mon Richard—”

“Leave.  _ Now _ . You’ve overstayed your welcome.” The King muttered, running a hand through his damp curls. A long pause passed between them, but still, Richie waited for her to exit.

“But I’ve given you  _ everything,  _ my Lord—”

 

“No, you haven’t.” Richie shot back, getting up from his bed and looking back at the distraught woman still looking up at him with wide, bewildered eyes. “Leave, before I get someone else to make you.” The own harshness in his tone made himself flinch, but the only irritation he truly felt was for himself, yet again battling with the mistakes he had created for himself. 

 

Before his follower could breathe another word of protest, Richie made his way into his bathroom. He could hear muffled sobs come from the other room, but he made no effort to console the woman. It was known that the King had no Queen, and every maiden that would try to crawl into his chambers to take the title by either way of love or lust would fail to claim that right. Richie was well aware of that, and he knew those tears were only ones meant to make him crawl back with apologies and a crown waiting for her head. 

 

Soon, the room was once again silent, and his bed was empty. Richie had tried to wash the night away, splashing water onto his face from the golden basin in the bathroom. His eyes met his reflection wearily. His dark eyes, once lit with a fire, now dim and heavy with the weight of his people. His skin clung to his face, outlining the dark, heavy circles that were under his eyes. After masking himself and hiding his true identity under a two-hundred-year-old facade, his mind was barely able to understand his own self from the man he paraded as. 

 

When he sat alone in bed, though those moments became fewer and fewer, Richie often had memories of the beings he used to keep accompany. Fingers traced over the long gold chain that constantly hung around his neck to keep himself in his human form, to wear the mask. However, the memories of his lengthy past were only fabrications and flickers of their true selves. Dreams were peppered with voices, arguments, a shimmer of gold or the brush of a hand, the whisper of his own name. A smile, a kiss.

 

Richie let out a heavy sigh when he heard a knock coming from his door, groaning out an impatient  _ ‘what?’  _ in response. He walked over to the door to listen better to the murmurs that came from the other side. 

 

“Sir, people are waiting in the throne room—”

“Soon. I’ll be ready soon.” Richie grumbled back, stalking away from the door to change into something decent.

 

..

 

Richie walked into the throne room, his body draped with white linens and golden jewelry. The noise of the golden chains made the rest of the people within the room fall silent, watching their king stroll through before sitting down unceremoniously. His eyes wandered to the faces that surrounded him, all with a mild look of fear in their eyes. The sight confused Richie, but he made no move to question their expressions. 

 

Richie took the form of an angel when he first became king, and his powers were used during that time. Ruling his people was easier than those before him because of them, and the humans looked up to him with the same wonder and enchantment they had to a God. When Richard first assumed the throne as King, they begged the angel for his attention and his blessings. He was the answer to their prayers, the ruler they needed. After being abandoned by the rest, the Angel of Luck and Mischief became their savior. However, while presenting as an angel, Richie became less of a King and more of a spectacle to those around him. 

 

It took everything to not use his powers at every trial and tribulation Richie saw. People would only flock in greater numbers to bear witness to the God of Kings and would ask for his powers to be used on them as well. Richie grew weary of parading around in his ethereal form, large wings on display for all humans to adore. Instead, he became more subdued in nature and only used his voice, exhausted to use his abilities to rule those around him. In his own temple, where his worshipers could come with their prayers and ailments, was the only place Richie took his true form. 

 

But outside, Richie’s gold chain and sapphire pendant kept him cloaked as a human, where he would be seen as such instead of a child of ‘God’. Citizens of the kingdom approached Richie, asking for his blessing, his advice, and intuition. Mothers, children, farmers, beggars, thieves, sinners, worshipers, all approached Richie’s feet with fearful looks in their eyes. Something in the wavering of their voices and the beat of their speech let Richie know that his people were still well aware of the legends of his powers, his former glory. 

 

A messenger came in, reiterating the status of the kingdom’s army in the Tenebris mountains. After an uprising had begun on the outskirts of the kingdom, the rebel forces had moved north to the mountains, where Richie had decided that fighting and destroying the rioting army before their numbers grew. 

 

“Sir, I know our status looks optimistic but we’ve gotten word that many of the men have gotten sick…  _ or _ gone missing.”

 

Richie sat back, rolling his eyes and sighing. “If our outlook is good, just finish the damn job and come home. We shouldn’t be spending this much time with a tiny group of rebel forces.” He dismissed the messenger quickly, his words similar to the last. It was normal for those things to happen, and Richie was hardly concerned about a bunch of misfits attempting to cause an uproar in his kingdom. 

 

As people started to leave the throne room, Richie started to become restless. There was only so much responsibility he could take, and sitting in the uncomfortable marble throne for so long had the young King propping his feet up over the left armrest of the throne, head tossed back as he listened to each person’s troubles, though his mind usually wandered away from their trivial information. 

 

After dismissing a young boy about the whereabouts of his father, a man who had disappeared a few months ago, Richie placed his feet back onto the ground to stand and leave the throne room. The head advisor approached Richie. “Uh, there’s one more, your highness,” Richie rolled his eyes, sitting back down. “A woman is here about her child.” His advisor whispered, lips close to his ear as Richie watched a dark-haired woman slowly approach him. Her face was sullen, eyes sunken and glazed over as they gazed upon him.

 

“My Lord…” She started slowly, voice quivering. Richie only nodded, allowing her to continue. “My son is terribly ill.” 

“There are plenty of medics in the city.” Richie said curtly, raising his hand to shoo her away, but she persisted.

 

“They have all come to see him, but he only gets worse as the days pass. I don’t think he will live.” The woman’s voice was barely there, a waning mess of its former state. Through internally harbored empathy, Richie allowed her to continue her story. As she did, others within the throne room exchanged nervous glances, some speaking with hushed voices, sharing secrets of the city that Richie had long forgotten, even after eons of parading throughout the streets. 

 

“What makes you think I can help you?” Richie’s head tilted, dark eyes looking the woman up and down. His gaze made her cower, forcing her to submit to her knees. Her fingers wrapped around a wooden charm, worn and tattered from decades of wear. Riche leaned over in his throne, elbow resting on his knee and head in his hand. He squinted before realizing the shape was familiar. Between her index finger and thumb was a carving of the Caduceus. Richie felt something deep within him reach out, a vague sense of familiarity washed over him. Like greeting an old old friend. 

 

“...Sir?” The woman asked when Richie didn’t speak, and the man snapped his head up, looking at the raven-haired woman. 

 

“Oh, I- uh,” He swallowed thickly, mind still trying to pick through to figure out why her necklace brought such a turmoil of emotions to him. “I’ll make sure that you go home with some medicine for your son.” Richie called over his advisor, asking that she be given remedies to help her son.

 

She was escorted out quickly, but Richie hardly noticed when the image of the Caduceus was still burned into his skull. The sight confused him, surprised him, brought him anger and pain when he closed his eyes, only to see flickering, blurry memories. 

 

Richie rose quickly, leaving the throne room without another word. He hurried up to his chambers, aware he wouldn’t be followed. As soon as the door was shut Richie changed into civilian clothing, garments he hadn’t touched since before he assumed the throne. The long grey cloak draped over his shoulders, and a dark hood was pulled over his head, long dark curls falling down his shoulders and hiding most of his face. Something that was barren within him suddenly gripped and pulled. A gnawing curiosity that begged for his attention, and like always, Richie gave into the impulsive feeling. 

 

..

 

The stairs up to the temple of Edward the Healer were steep, daunting. When Richie climbed, each step was a question, a challenge to see if he was willing to make the journey to make the climb. Usually, the lazy royal would never undergo such a strenuous task, but whatever curious pull that was poking and prodding at his insides now guided is every move. The time that it took to climb the marble steps were hardly noticed by Richie because of his infatuation. 

 

Between the marble columns, Richie could see people moving about: prophets, mothers, fathers, children even, all climbing the steps to pray to their God. Richie had never stepped in any other temple of worship but his own, and walking into one that did not belong to him made him feel more alienated than ever. Passing through the entrance, Richie looked around, the ceilings carved with golden wings and the same familiar image of the Caduceus, which was paired with a harp. The sight caused moving muscles to seize, where Richie’s ribs and lungs tightened upon a witness. The King cursed under his breath and gulped. 

 

His hood was still pulled over his head, warding off any unwanted attention. He caught glimpses of prophets that roamed around quietly. Large books were in hand, ones that detailed the legends of the mysterious God, legends that Richie had witnessed, but failed to recall. He approached the statue of the Caduceus and Harp. A lump in his throat wailed to erupt, and Richie was still unsure of what that eruption would be if it was a laugh, a scream, a cry, or a whisper. Still, something begged him to stay.

 

Richie slowly got onto his knees, eyes still glued to the golden and marble altar that towered over him. Its presence carried the same unspoken question, the same challenge that Richie felt within himself. He traced the floor, the cold marble sending goosebumps over his skin. He could feel the question get louder and louder, but a screaming silence still surrounded him. He looked down at his own hands, palms open to the sky, before gazing back at the altar. His head tilted upwards, eyes on the ceiling to fix on a painting of shimmering gold wings. 

 

The image sent electricity through him. The curiosity within him shook his rib cage, hammering against his heart and begging for satisfaction for answers. His eyes were suddenly wide and glazed over as if the image itself had spoken to him. Richie’s gaze averted from the carving, shutting his eyes to block tears from falling. It didn’t make any sense to cry. Richie bowed his head, chest heaving, and spoke in a soft whisper.

“I… I don’t know why I’m here.”

 

His eyes opened, looking up at the statue after a moment, as if waiting for a goldenly marble reply. “I’ve never done, this, uh…” Richie fished through his mind to try and address the what—angel? God? 

 

“... _ Edward _ .” That sounded right. “Something told me to come here... I don’t know what.” 

Richie looked up at the ceiling for a moment, eyes still wide as if he was watching the ceiling open up for him as if Edward would appear before him. “I don’t remember much, anymore...But I remember your name.” Eyes fixed onto the statue.

“Edward, Healer and Musician.” The name made Richie’s lips break into a weak smile.

 

“In my dreams, I call you Eddie… I see your wings but, that… that’s it...not your voice or your face. I forgot what you look like.” Richie’s eyes shut tight. He toyed with the long chain that hung around his neck in thought, trying to find his own voice.

 

“I… I tried looking for you....” Richie bantered with himself, fingers gripping around the sapphire pendant at the end of his chain. It was the Mask that kept him chained in his human form, kept him chained to Earth. “I hope you didn’t forget me.”

 

_ Because I had forgotten myself.  _ He thought.

 

The tears that had formed in his eyes started to fall, dripping down his pale cheeks. His eyes looked back up at the wings that were etched above him. “Where are you? Did you leave me? Did I—” Richie gasped for air, trying to keep himself from sobbing at the feet of the statue. “Did I something wrong?” His voice was a groan of not just emotional, but physical pain. His chest ached with a need to find this God without a face. “ _ I miss you, Eds _ .” 

 

The sentence came from his lips without him actually thinking about it, but when he heard it, he froze. The name made his heart stop. His eyes were still transfixed on the golden wings above him. He hadn’t said that name in millennia, and hearing it fall from his own lips made his lungs tighten and his heart thump wildly in his chest. He inhaled, the air sharply coiling as his chest heaved and his body shook with sorrow.  “ _ Eds- _ ”

 

“He’s alive! Oh Heavens above, he lives!”

 

Richie’s head shot up, turning to see a woman and her son walking into the temple. Tears ran down her cheeks, and her eyes were fixed on the angel wings carved above Richie’s head as she spoke to those that approached her. It was the same woman from the throne room. 

 

Richie got to his feet, seeing her child looking healthier than ever. The mother only smiled, the expression seeming to be glued to her face as she spoke up to the ceiling, to the heavens. “You sent him to me, you heard and  _ you sent him. _ ” She wept happily, hands holding her child’s shoulders as to make sure he was there, he was healthy, he was able. 

 

The King watched as the woman approached the statue that he still stood in front of,  stunned at the sight. When she was at arm's length away, he spoke. “Who—who was sent?” He asked voice quiet so only she could hear. 

“A doctor.” She said softly, seeming to withdraw away from the stranger. “He sent him.” Her eyes looked up to the marble and gold statue with a smile, and the rattling that had started to quiet down inside Richie was once again wide awake. Richie tore his hood off, dark curls coming down his long, messy tendrils. The mother looked stunned to see her King among common people, within the walls of a temple that was not his own.

 

“Where?”


	5. “...but weep bitterly for him who goes away, for he shall return no more to see his native land.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback

_216 years prior..._

 

“Soon they’ll call me _your_ God.” He hissed before leaving the Great Hall, the sound of his jewelry leaving with him.

 

“Richie! _Richie_ get back here!” Eddie called, before he and Beverly left. Eddie ran through the large doors, searching for Richie’s figure before finding his large great wings and wild dark hair storming away from the Great Hall.

 

“ _Richie_!” Eddie called, catching up to the slightly taller being and grabbing his jewelry covered arm. “Richie you can’t do this.” Eddie said, fingers tight around the other’s arm. His wide brown eyes made Richie soften, and he turned to face Eddie.

“You know I have to. It’s not right the way Bill keeps us locked away like this. We’re made for _more_ , Eds, can’t you see that?” Richie reasoned, hands on Eddie’s bare shoulders. “Come with, me, baby.”

Eddie frowned, moving away from the other’s hold. “Richie don’t call me that.” The words made Richie’s face fall, frowning slightly. “Eddie wait—”

 

“Bill does what he does for a reason, Richie, you know that as well as anyone.” The two turned to the sound, seeing Beverly join Eddie’s side to speak. “He knows what’s best.”

 

Richie frowned. “Yeah, right, Bev. He _knew_ what was best, now he’s just frightened. You? You’re way more powerful than him and you just let him tell you whatever he thinks is best so he’ll stay in charge.” Beverly’s green eyes narrowed at Richie, and her stare made Richie recoil slightly.

“He’s in charge because angels like you let power go to your head. _Richie_ , this is a dumb idea and you know it. Stay.” Beverly urged, and Eddie nodded.

“Richie please, it’s awful that you’re gone nearly all the time. What happens if you never come back?” Eddie asked, moving his head to look into Richie’s eyes.

Richie only shrugged in response, looking away from Eddie’s gaze to refrain from giving into his words of reason. “Well, maybe it’ll do me some good. Maybe I’ll be listened to down there for a change.” Richie retorted, looking both angels up and down with distaste.

 

Eddie frowned.

“Richie we _do_ listen to you, we just hate what you’re saying. What? Are you  going to be King down there?” His golden wings bristled as he spoke, stiffening slightly with his peeved tone.

 

“ _Maybe_! Why not? It’s not like I’m any use to you up here.” Richie barked, his voice harsher, angrier. His face was in Eddie’s, spine arching backward as his closed wings became raised. The glossened feathers that covered Richie’s shoulder blades fluffed extraneously. Eddie stepped back, stunned at Richie’s state.

“Richie, no—”

 

“Bev, c’mon!” The angel’s head snapped to face the other’s for her reason, through the anger still painted on his face. “What else are you going to do up here? Listen to prayers that never get answered until you finally _die_ because they stopped believing in you?” Richie asked, voice booming. Beverly was stunned, panning between the two with glazed eyes.

 

“Seems like you’ve gotten your mind made up, then,” Beverly growled, training herself not to slash at Richie’s throat.  “ _Fine_.” Her fists were clenched tightly at her side as she walked away. She looked at Eddie, catching his gaze for a moment with a silent plea, ‘ _Stop him.’_

Richie’s eyes met Eddies, and he could see that they were starting to become moistened with tears, looking up at him with a heap of overlapping emotions. “ _Eddie…_ ” He said softly, voice soothing and gentle.

 

“....please, come with me.” Richie looked at Eddie with a tender gaze, one that always made Eddie melt. His hand extended to Eddie, fingers adorned with gold and sapphire rings. Eddie looked at Richie’s open palm, his heart lacerating within his chest, telling him to follow. He always had. “Eddie-baby.”

 

Eddie’s dark eyes shot up to meet Richie’s, wide doe eyes unable to hide the pooling tears any longer. “ _Don’t_ call me that.” The tears started to cascade down his face as he spoke.

“You shouldn’t do this, _please_ ,” He took Richie’s hand, but it was quickly snatched away from his hold.

“I shouldn’t, but I’m going to. I’m saving myself…. You’re just going to end up like the rest of them, and for what?”

“Richie you know why,”

“And? Eddie, you’re made for so much more—”

 

“You are too, you complete _dickhead_! Stop for a second and think for once in your life! It feels like you never fucking do!” Eddie stopped. Richie froze, wildly deranged after criticism.

“Fine. Stay up here like a damn caged bird, then.” Richie growled, turning away from Eddie, wings spreading to block the other angel.

“Richie wait I—”

“No, you mean it!” Richie barked back. “Because if you really cared you would’ve defended me in front of Bill—”

 

“I have, _I did_!” Eddie cried, his tears becoming not ones of sadness, but of frustration. “I always have been! Every damn time you go down to Earth to fuck some common _whore_! Then you’d just come right fucking back telling me ‘ _it's fine_!’, like I don’t _care_.” Eddie looked at the taller angel, dark eyes red and bleary with tears. Richie was silent, his own chest tightening and his eyes threatening a stream of tears.

“I—”

 

“ _No_ ! Don’t fucking apologize, Richie, because if _you_ really cared, you would stay. If you _really_ cared you wouldn’t tell me about it. You know I still love you, I’ve always loved you, and yet you _still_ keep rubbing it in my fucking face!” Eddie’s yell faded into a soft whimper, eyes darting away from Richie’s gaze.

 

“ _Eds_ ,” Richie said softly, hand reaching out touch his shoulder.

“Don’t, Richie.” Eddie groaned, the sound almost in agony as he turned away from the taller angel. Richie shook his head, moving closer.

“Eddie-baby, please don’t do this, please. Come with me—”

 

“ _No_! Richie! No. I hear all the time about your damn escapades I don’t want to fucking see them too.” Eddie snapped, his tears starting to blur his vision as he started to walk away.

“Eddie!” Richie called rushing after him.

  
“Don’t  forget to come visit, again, your _highness.”_ Eddie turned back, eyes narrowed at Richie. “Hope you’re happy down there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, a little shorter than usual but the next one will be a bit lengthier I promise. I hope you guys are enjoying it so far!!!
> 
> If you have any questions or just wanna talk, come bother me over on my [blog!](https://itchytoaster.tumblr.com/)


	6. “...your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you...You are not your own,”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been awhile :') updates won't be as regular as I planned because I've started college but I'll try my best :))

_Present._

Eddie’s constant questions were met with only silence in the bar, and even though the young man struggled with all his might, he was still escorted out of the city towards the castle. After trying to escape the guard's clutches twice, Eddie was eventually carried by the two men, with his arms hoisted over their shoulders so his feet barely touched the ground. His feet began to drag as he was carried through the castle and passed the doors to the throne room. 

He felt the same curious gaze on him again as they entered the room, some of the lords and royals murmuring softly as they eyed the strange doctor carried by two guardsmen. Eddie only ignored him, mind still swimming with lurking, concerning thoughts.

 

_ He’s alive, he’s alive. Richie’s alive… and a King? How? Why? Where had he been? Why didn’t he come— _

 

Eddie’s body was slammed onto the cold marble floor unceremoniously, and both guards waited quietly. “So neither of you are going to answer my questions?” Eddie breathlessly piped up, head turning upwards to look at his captures, but neither replied. The angel sighed, starting to get to his feet when he was stopped midway by a strong hand on his shoulder. Eddie started to protest. “Hey! Let me—” 

He was quickly hushed, but the command was not just for him. The majority of the throne room grew quiet as well, bearing a heavy weight on Eddie’s shoulders, but nothing touched him. The air in the chamber grew viscous with tension as the sound of jewelry started to become louder and louder, with the sound nearing the entrance that veered to the right of the throne itself.

 

Heads lowered as a tall figure entered, the swing of golden jewelry accompanying its movements. Though he took note of the other’s bowed heads, Eddie’s eyes glanced up from the bare feet that moved across the marble, shifting up passed softened white and blue silk with long fingers sprouting from arms adorned with bracelets, rings, charms and chains. His eyes took in that bare chest and broadened shoulder shelf that had been barely covered with the turquoise fabric. Eddie’s eyes finally halted on his face, where his breath caught in his throat. 

 

“Richie…” 

 

His soft voice seemed to go unnoticed by the ethereal being in his presence, but Eddie made no mistake when overlooking the individual. That was, without a doubt in his mind, Richard: The Angel of Luck and Mischief. 

 

The King took his place in his throne, sitting back and looking up and down at the doctor that kneeled before him. His dark eyes swarmed over Eddie, the flickering memories that were usually tucked in the recesses of Richie’s mind suddenly flashing before his eyes as he gazed at the familiar stranger. 

“State your name and purpose,” Richie said curtly. The sound of his voice after so many years paralyzed Eddie for a moment, unable to search for his own name while his mind screamed RichieRichieRichieRichieRich-

“Speak.” The King’s voice echoed, silencing any whispers that had started to erupt within the hall.

 

“...you don’t remember who I am…” Eddie whispered under his breath, the sound inaudible to those around him. 

 

The dark haired man leaned over in his seat in an exaggerated gesture, left hand to his ear. “Do speak up, love. I may not look the part, but this old man is hard of hearing.” The King resorted to resting his head on his hand, looking down at the silent doctor. “Go on.”

 

“...my name is Edward; I’m a traveling doctor.” His throat was dry, lips suddenly chapped and breath barely there.

 

“Ah, Edward…” Richie hummed with faux glee, leaning back in his throne. “Like the Angel?” Eddie nodded silently, earning another chuckle from the playful king. “Let me guess,”  Richie mocked, leaning forward in his throne and eyeing Eddie. “you think you’re able to heal my people from this nasty plague, huh? How should I trust you?” Richie gestured to the other’s lanky frame, a sly grin on his face. “Why, you’re so boyish looking I’m surprised the plague hasn’t infected you!” 

 

The taunting remark made the room echo with laughter, and Richie couldn’t help but beam at the attention his joke had gotten. Eddie burned with shame, aware that his looks made him an easy target for taunting above the clouds, and to his annoyance, below as well. He let out an exasperated huff, dark eyes glaring up at the angelic King. 

“But I’ve already cured someone.” Eddie retorted. “Isn’t that why your goons dragged me here?” His head tilted to the side, brow raised in a silent challenge against the monarch. Eddie’s figure always made others assume he could do no harm, but his bark wounded more than a bite ever would.

 

His defiance made Richie’s eyes widen, taken back by the familiar stranger’s sharp tongue. He wanted to quip back with something else to escalate their quarrel, but surrounded by his peers, all eyes fixed on him, Richie refrained from doing so. Instead, the King rested back in his throne with mock ease, trying to keep his face as unphased as possible. However, after two hundred years of ‘yes sirs’ and ‘no sirs’, it was almost refreshing to listen to someone with a bit of bite to their words and defiance on their tongue. 

 

“Oh, forgive me, Edward.” Richie purred, his voice laced with mockery. “But yes; your actions drew the attention of my council, so I’ve invited you here—”

“Quite the invitation, I’ll say.” Eddie snorted, eyes looking up at the two burly men who dragged him to Richie’s feet in the first place. Richie’s eyes narrowed, a scowl starting to form in his brow and lips. Eddie smirked.

“Would you like me to continue, because I’m perfectly fine tossing you in a cellar for the rest of your days.” Richie muttered, though in actuality, the curiosity he had started to feel for the man had started to get the best of him. He arched his brow when he didn’t receive a response from his guest, fingers drumming lazily on the marble arm of his throne.

“Go on.” Eddie said with an exasperated sigh. He knew that he had to treat Richie with respect and grace, though the orders he was given were more painful than pulling molars from his skull. Richie’s cheeky grin spread from ear to ear at Eddie’s response, arms resting on his knees as he leaned forward once more to get closer to the doctor.

“I want to offer you a job.”

Eddie blinked, brow knitting. “I— what?”

“A job, Edward,” Eddie opened his mouth to voice a multitude of questions but the finger that was held up by the King made him fall silent.

 

“All of my medics have traveled to Tenebris with my army, leaving me—a-and the rest of the castle,” Richie quickly supplied, noticing Eddie’s brow arch at his first explanation. “Without a doctor.”

“And?” Eddie retorted. “There are plenty of medics, doctors and nurses around the city.” He was trying not just to convince Richie to let him go, but himself as well. The last thing he wanted was to get tangled up in Richie and reveal his true identity.

 

Richie laughed, rolling his eyes. “You’re looking for work, aren’t you? And you’re turning down the best job in the kingdom? Bold of you, I must say, Edward.” He mused, looking the doctor up and down with a challenge in his eyes. 

The man on his knees huffed in frustration, knowing that he was right. His gaze shifted from the dark eyes of the King to the marble floor, weighing his options silently. Without even thinking thoroughly through all ideas, he was already speaking.

“Fine.”

 

The King grinned, getting to his feet. “Perfect! Let me show you to your room then—”

“Your Highness,” One of the servants piped up, and Richie’s head turned away from the man still on his knees. “Would you prefer one of us assist the doctor?”

 

Richie scoffed, tossing his hand out in dismissal. “He’s our guest and should be treated as such. I’ll take care of him.” He finished with a smile. 

 

A jewelry covered hand extended to Eddie, the long fingers beckoning him closer. Eddie got to his feet on his own, reluctantly ignoring Richies’ gesture. He looked at Richie, finally seeing the long-lost Angel face-to-face after so long. 

 

He looked just as Eddie had remembered. Richie’s freckles still dotted his face, softening his sharp edges and jawline. He was never conventionally attractive. Richie was long. Long arms, long hair, long legs, long fingers, all thinning him out into a sturdy but strong figure. A figure that Eddie never failed to forget, even after centuries of distance. 

The toothy grin that appeared on the King’s face suddenly made any intimidating, harsh feature vanish, leaving only a childish, eager young man, delighted for… something. Change? Companionship? Or maybe, just a doctor.

 

“Follow me.” Richie beamed, walking briskly out of the throne room from where he had come from, leaving Eddie to trail behind him with short, quick steps. 

Richie moved through the halls quickly, while Eddie was trying to take in the lovely stone architecture of the castle, walls littered with tapestry and paintings. They moved through large archways, illuminated by oil lamps and large wooden doors and rooms that Eddie looked into with curiosity, wondering silently what lay behind each entrance as he tried to keep up with the eager King.

“You know I—we, don’t get a lot of new editions to the castle.” Richie called to Eddie over his shoulder as they started up a large winding staircase. Eddie followed the whirlwind of white and turquoise silk up the stairs, the walls opening to large windows that when looked out of, gave a perfect view of the city below and the mountains that stretched onward on the outskirts of the city.  “Hey!”

Eddie’s head shot up, seeing the grinning King at the top of the steps. “C’mon Eds! Don’t keep me waiting!” He laughed.

 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “It’s Eddie.” He huffed as he met up to the delighted King. As soon as he got towards the stop, Richie was already turning on his heel and passing through the large archway that lead to the chambers of the King and other Lords that resided within the castle.

“Shouldn’t I be downstairs? Closer to the staff?” Eddie questioned as he trailed behind Richie, moving a bit quicker to catch up with the King’s long strides.

 

“ ‘course not! Your room is going to be closer to the other Lords,” Richie stopped in front of a large wooden door, waiting for Eddie to come to his side again. The King rolled his eyes with a dramatic sigh. “I don’t have all day now, ‘Eddie’, c’mon.”

 

Eddie’s eyes narrowed slightly at the impatient nature of the King, arms crossing over one another once he reached the other man’s side. “Really? You offer me a job and you’re already making me hate it?” He retorted, arching a brow at his ‘superior’. Richie’s impatient look quickly turned into a knowing smirk. 

“I doubt you’ll want to leave after you see this.” The door opened, revealing a large bedroom, with windows that opened up to the same mesmerizing scene that Eddie had only caught a glimpse of from the staircase.

 

He walked in slowly, noting the large canopy bed covered with soft sheets to his left and an entrance to his own bathroom to his right. The sight, compared to his own chambers were relatively the same, if not better, but he could tell that the King was a little beside himself with the set-up. 

“Well..?”

 

The question made Eddie turn away from the large window, seeing Richie leaning against the threshold with a grin. 

“What?” Eddie replied, tilting his head to the side. “You gave me a room with a view, how kind.” He chuckled with mockery.

The taunting made the King roll his eyes and scoff, arms folding over his chest. “I’m just trying to make you feel comfortable, okay? Things around here aren’t as nice as they seem.” He warned. Eddie shifted in his place next to the balcony, shoulder resting on the cool stone. He nodded in return, his mind suddenly filled with images of the sick boy he had aided just earlier that same day.

 

A thick silence passed between the two of them, filled with questions, unspoken answers, curious gazes and nervous diversion of those gazes. The only noise that was heard was the ones that surrounded the city, filled with the life that was suddenly drained from the bedroom. Eddie’s eyes looked to the King, who had only become lost in his own mind as his dark eyes looked around the vast room, obviously unfamiliar with it. 

 

“Your Highness!” A voice called from down the hall, quickly cutting the taciturnity that had begun to settle between the two strangers. Richie’s head turned to the sound, pushing himself off the door post and looking to see a servant coming to meet him by the entrance of the room. 

“The army is waiting for your response to the rebels in Tenebris. Your presence is requested in the drawing room.”

 

Eddie could hear Richie let out a curse in frustration, an image of irritation starting to drip onto his brow and his lips. The King nodded silently before dismissing the man, eyes looking to the floor as his mind wandered, obviously swimming in worry and anger.

 

“Your Highness..?” Eddie asked, his voice meek from his usually fiery tone. He started to move in the direction of the king, noting the irritation that had settled on his shouldered and coiled down the King’s spine. “Richard—”

“Yes?” Richie’s voice was sharp on the edges as his head darted up. The tone making Eddie freeze, just a few paces from his side. Dark eyes were fixed on the doctor, the aggravation that had started to form from the orders starting to saturate his gaze.

“I…” Eddie’s voice was lost again for just a moment, swallowing thickly as that narrowed gaze stared him down. “Would you like me to accompany you?” He asked, not moving an inch, fearing that the King would luge at any sudden movement.

 

As the anxiety-ridden words left his lips, Richie visibly changed, the sound of minor distress making his features change and his once rigid posture relaxing against the side of the door again. He nodded with a weak expression of apology, leaving silently. Eddie followed behind him with quick footsteps, once again rushing to keep up with the King’s long strides. 

 

**..**

 

The drawing room was small; the walls seeming to move closer and closer when one looked at the towering bookcases that lined them. Eddie’s eyes often wandered among the shelves while he stood off to the side, becoming uninterested in the quiet murmurs of the state of the King’s men in Tenebris. 

 

Eddie sometimes found himself drawn to that familiar voice, watching the man hunched over the table in the center of the room, surrounded by various maps as well as the two voices of his advisors, all trying to encourage and sway him in different directions. Eddie had tried to listen to the quick dialogue between the three men, but the sound of their hushed whispers around the doctor was more than enough to let him know the conversation was not meant to be heard by others but those within it. 

 

“It shouldn’t be taking this damn  _ long _ .” Richie growled louder, his eyes narrowed at the topographical map that laid in front of him, littered with various shades of ink and tiny wooden pawns, obviously symbols for different parties within the army. His complaining was met with reassurances, all telling Richie that they were keeping everything ‘under control’. 

 

“My Lord, if we just wait out until next week, the rebels will finally be outnumbered, easy to overtake—”

“They’ve outnumbered since this damn thing started. The only numbers that have changed are our own.” Richie retorted with a grumble, hastily moving a long curl that dropped from the loose silk he had tied his hair back with. “I want them  _ gone.  _ You hear me? Completely gone—”

 

“If I may,” Eddie piped up from his spot backed up by a bookcase filled with historical novela. His voice made the three men peer at him with bewilderment, most of all Richie, who had started to peer at the doctor with confusion and curiosity every time he spoke.

“How is the army surviving?” Eddie approached the wooden desk, hands clasped together in front of him while he exchanged gazes with each man, awaiting a response. When Eddie’s eyes met Richie’s, a chill prickled his spine, making his muscles go rigid for a moment at the curious gaze that seemed to scream silent questions.

 

“Many went missing but doctors there are trying to heal the men who are still accounted for.” The man to Richie’s left piped up when the King failed to answer, who’s questioning gaze was still fixed on Eddie.

“What are their symptoms?” Eddie’s question was once again met with resistant silence.

 

The doctor nodded when he didn’t receive an answer, his fingers drumming on the wooden table. Eddie arched his brow, cocking his head to the side. “You don’t know, do you?” His eyes fixed on the King hunched over the table, elbows propping up his visibly tired frame. 

The two advisors shook their head, answering with heavy ‘no’s, but Eddie paid no attention to them, only looking at Richie, as if his question had yet to be answered.

 

In a way the question had yet to be answered, as the man that gazed at Eddie did not know beyond the life he led, his old memories still just flickering images in the back of his mind.

“Would you mind leaving us?” Richie finally asked, straightening his spine and looking down at Eddie. Their gaze held for a moment while the advisors left, silent questions seeming to echo with clueless cries.

Eddie watched them leave, and once the door shut, his eyes met Richie’s.

 

“Why did you make them—”

“How much do you know?” Richie asked as if Eddie hadn’t even spoken.

“I— excuse me?” The doctor was taken back by the sudden question, head tilting to the side. “Oh. About this?” He gestured to the map, studying it with a bit more detail before shaking his head. “Virtually nothing. I didn’t realize you were under attack—”

“We’re not.” The King corrected, his irritation rising with the notion that he was in jeopardy.

 

Eddie nodded slowly, deciding to be in silent agreement would save his breath rather than argue with a being that was older than time, and one who would be determined to have the last word until the end of it. 

 

“But what do you know about me? What have you heard?” The royal finally asked. The abrupt change in subject made the doctor’s face contort with mild confusion.  

“Some… odd things.” Eddie finally explained, picking his words carefully as to avoid giving himself away. The King hummed, a small, knowing smile on his face.

“I heard you were a God.” He murmured, although he knew the notion to be completely false. His dark eyes met Richie’s, who wore an amused expression.

“Yeah. I’ve gotten that, but not really. I was an angel.” The King hummed, a small nostalgic smile on his face as he spoke.

“Why are you here then? Why haven’t you gone back?” Eddie pressed, genuinely curious as to the reason why Richie never returned. The question made the smile disappear. A heavy sigh of lament replaced it instead.

 

“I…” The King stopped for a moment, his eyes glued to a single pawn on the map. “I can’t remember.” 

Eddie watched the King from the other side of the table, swallowing thickly. So it was true. He thought.

“Why did you leave?” He asked slowly, recalling the terrible fight he had gotten into with Richie when he was  _ Richie _ .

“I can’t remember.” The other man muttered into the floor, his eyes darting away from Eddie’s gaze.

 

The answer, though true, frustrated the ‘doctor’ for some frustrating, unknown reason. He frowned at Richie’s sudden standoffish behavior, his thick brows knitted with a peculiar kind of anger.

“Not one thing? Why can’t you remember?” Eddie pressed, hands on the table as he leaned over the map. “Ri—Your Highness,” He corrected with exasperation. “As such a powerful being why don’t you—can’t you leave? Go back—”

 

“I don’t know!” The King finally stuttered out in a yell, eyes going wide as his head shot up “I  _ can’t _ . I don’t know  _ how. _ ” He snarled, his docile demeanor melting away with every irritating word that left his lips. 

Eddie fell silent, swallowing thickly. Richie’s eyes narrowed, inching closer to the other side of the desk as he peered curiously at the strange doctor.

 

“Why are you so curious anyway?” Richie asked, eyes narrowing at the doctor. “You’re  _ human.  _ My life outside this kingdom shouldn’t concern you. It was a long time ago. I’m…” He his harsh tone faded with some kind of choked noise, head shaking. “I’m  _ old,  _ Edward. I’m  _ tired  _ and confused a-and…”

 

His soft, broken voice dissipated, his head lowering as his eyes closed. His jewel adorned hand gripped the side of the table as he tried to steady every part of himself. 

“Richie…” Eddie whispered in a quiet breath, swallowing thickly as he watched for the first time in millennia, vulnerability from the being he once knew. He spoke a bit louder to get his attention. “Your Highness,”

 

“Please go.” The voice was a soft whisper, a stifled sob of its former self. “Pl-please.”

 

The word was a command, but Eddie could hear the quiet pitiful question that laid underneath it. The doctor nodded, slowly walking out of the drawing room. As he closed the door, Eddie swore he heard a wretched sob come from the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know if you guys like it I'd love to hear your thoughts :))


	7. “...I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me;”

_ 217 years prior… _

 

Richie laughed as he strolled through the halls of the Council’s chambers, walking back and forth from the outside of Bill’s bedroom door. A smaller pair of footsteps followed behind him at a quicker pace, back and forth and back and forth. The familiar sound made Richie laugh, suddenly feeling hands tug on his long white feathers. 

 

“Georgie, Georgie, puddin’ pie,” The angel started to rhyme with a grin. “I’ve been looking for you… with my eyes.” Richie concluded with a laughed, looking over his shoulder to see a young angel with glowing iridescent wings. 

“That was a terrible rhyme.” The younger angel retorted with a cheeky grin. “ I thought you ditched me!” Georgie tugged a bit harder on the older angel’s brilliantly white feathers to make him frown with discomfort.

“Keep that up and maybe I will, huh?” Richie taunted, keeping his large wings close to his shoulders.  He turned to lean on the threshold of Bill’s door, knocking on the wood. “So Billiam, you gonna join us?” He asked with a grin.

 

“I told you I don’t want to,” Bill grumbled, poking his head out and leaning on the threshold of the door to find the dark-haired angel wearing a pouting face. 

“Please, Bill?” Georgie whined, leaning on the other side of the door to look up at his brother with wide brown eyes.

“Yeah, please?” Richie asked in the same high-pitched tone, mildly mocking the youngest angel. His white wings fluffed as he spoke. “You’re not gettin’ any younger up here, ‘Father Time’.” Richie chuckled, making Bill roll his eyes.

“Yeah you promised, Bill.” Georgie frowned.

 

“Plus,” Richie leaned into the doorway, face to face with the eldest angel, who only backed away with a look of distaste. “You’ll get a chance to Awh-drahhh.” He sang the words with an arched brow, nudging the now half smiling, bashful Angel of Time. The mention of ‘Awh-drah’ made Georgie gasp with mock delight, for everyone knew how much Bill adored her.

 

After a few moments of silent contemplation and the two younger angels crying ‘please’ like infants, Bill finally huffed out a ‘fine’, rolling his eyes as he walked back into his bedroom. From outside his door, the other two cheered happily. 

 

**..**

 

Goosebumps pricked up Richie’s arms as the coastal winds blew across the lands. Though his limbs were mildly chilled, the sun warmed his skin, and he couldn’t help but smile as he, Bill, and Georgie wandered up the coast. The waves that washed up on the shore sometimes touched his bare feet, the stark contrast between the warmth of the sun and the chilling ocean water making his body shiver ever so often. Most sensations started to make the heavenly being mildly uncomfortable in his human form, but to have a moment on Earth made each feeling worth it.

 

“Wh-where are we guh-going?” Bill asked, his stutter coming back after he turned from his true form of perfection to his mask of an ironically fake pocket watch. The glitch was minor, but it rarely stopped his counterparts from pointing it out almost every time.

 

Georgie beamed. “To be the kings of the Mountain!” 

 

“Well Buh-buh Bill,” Richie replied with a cheeky grin as the other angel rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Georgie and I were gonna go up to Tenebris, maybe look around.” He shrugged. 

 

The mention of the Tenebris Mountains made Bill’s brow knit, having never been there himself. His gaze met the horizon, peering to see the large dark peak in the near distance, dark green foliage surrounding every rock and peak that was carved into the old mountain. It was the sister to the Claralux peaks, which, no matter the season, was always decorated with flowers. Bill knew that those flowers were Stanley’s doing, loving to add is own touch of extravagance, even when the scientific reasoning for his choices were never explainable.

 

"Whu-what about Audra?" Bill finally asked, to which Richie snorted.

"Seriously? The most dedicated prophet of Time not knowing where you are?" He teased, playfully punching Bill's arm. "I bet she's on her knees for you for hours, huh Big Bill?" His lips spread into a wide, cheeky grin.

"Beep B-beep fucker," Bill grumbled, folding his arms across his chest although his reddening cheeks told the true story of his affections towards the young prophet.

 

The three angelic beings kept their pace on the coast, footprints trailing behind them as obvious landmarks of their presence. However, as wet sand began to meld into the threshold between the shore and the grass, they noticed a fourth pair of footprints in the sand, slightly smaller than their own but bigger than Georgie’s. Along with it was the quiet hum of music, the gentle sound being heard just above the waves that crashed upon the shore.

 

Richie looked to his right, seeing the wide smile that was on Bill’s face at the obvious recognition. Georgie quietly giggled at his brother’s sudden expression of delight.

“Go on lover, boy!” Richie jeered, watching Bill slip into the trees.  He got closer to the sound of the familiar heavenly voice, one so similar to that of a cherub. The melody delighted him.

 

He approached the source of the music: a figure with long dark braided hair, adorned with white daisies. Silk robes covered her skin, the fabric curling and contorting with the wind’s gentle gust. 

Bill stopped in his tracks, watching the woman turn to look over her shoulder at him, her green eyes bright and perfect lips in a smile.

“...Audra.” He sighed with delight, lips spread wide in a smile, shoulders relaxing as the woman’s eyes met his own.

 

She beamed, rushing into Bill’s open arms and holding him tight. They kissed, slow and passionate, arms encircling one another’s bodies after so much distance over so much time. 

“I missed you.” Her voice was breathless with relief, eyes shutting as she pulled the heavenly being closer to her own mortal frame. Her head rested on Bill’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. 

Bill’s head rested on her shoulder, arms wrapping around her midsection. “I missed you too.” His eyes closed as he held the woman close, savoring every moment he had with Audra, each second precious as gold.

 

“Is it safe to come over or are you two still makin’ out?” Richie called, his crude remark followed by the delighted laughter of Georgie. Bill rolled his eyes, and even before answering, the sound of two pairs of feet were quickly approaching them. 

Audra beamed when she caught sight of Georgie, kneeling down slightly to take the Cherub of Light into her arms into a tight embrace.

 

“Look this is cute and all,” Richie butted in with mock-dejection. “But I was promised a trip up to Tenebris and I’m not leavin’ without it.” His remark made Audra laugh, getting to her feet again to look at the mischievous angel. 

“Still always the restless one, Richie.” She retorted, walking in front of the three angels through the thick forestry. “Don’t worry, it’s not too far from here.” She called over her shoulder, and the three beings followed eagerly.

 

**..**

The wind howled while they were atop the cliffs, the peaks still covered with greenery and flowers of all sorts. Richie’s bare feet dangled over the cliff’s edge, looking out over the coastline that stretched on and on and on. Not a sound was heard from the space of tranquility, only whispers of the seashore and the moan of the wind filled his senses. 

He could hear footsteps approaching him, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the shimmering wings of the young angel. He turned to look at Georgie, his gaze met with a fistful of wildflowers. Richie grinned.

 

“Aw, are these for me?” He laughed, taking the mangled bouquet and clutching it to his chest when Georgie nodded in affirmation. Richie’s brow furrowed, seeing the unmistakable shimmer of Georgie’s wings. 

“Where’s your Mask?” He asked, getting to his feet. Richie was never really one to concern himself other’s affairs, but when it came to the precious Angel of Light, Richie, as well as the other angels, see to it that Georgie was always safe. 

 

The question, however, only made Georgie shrug. “I took it off to go explore some caves. D’you wanna come?” He grinned up at Richie, who returned the expression of glee. They decided to leave Bill alone, knowing he had plenty of catching up to do with his mortal lover. The two crossed over the soft patches of grass that covered most of the craggy rocks, Richie following the pair of opal wings that painted beautiful shimmering pictures on various surfaces when it caught the light. 

 

They came to a dark opening in the mountain, the inside barely illuminated by the sun’s rays. Richie stood at the mouth of the cave, looking up around the sides in wonder. Along the edges of the cave, he could see faded, indescribable writing on the rocks, but they were far too faded to be understood. But still, Richie squinted upwards, trying to make out the letters before he was pushed forward into the darkness of the cave by two small hands. 

“Hey!—” Behind him, Richie could hear Georgie giggling happily. The laughter echoed in the cave as Georgie came to stand next to Richie, his wings now glowing with a brilliant white light. He grinned cheekily.

 

“C’mon let’s go, scaredy cat!” He jeered, walking through the dark narrow tunnel of the cave, Richie scrambling to follow the bright light that illuminated the walls of the cave. Along the walls were more etchings into the grey rock, all muddled and incomprehensible. Richie’s eyes were glued to the walls as they walked, head tilting upwards to find more writing on the rounded arches, obviously created with some architectural integrity from some long-forgotten empire within the mountains. 

 

They pass through these rounded archways, and the opening to the mouth of the cave grew farther and farther away as they kept going. Along the walls were carved out compartments, some decorated with long-dead floral arrangements while others were empty. 

One made Richie stop, however. Inside the wall was a large crown made from granite. Inside, the remnants of a skull dusted and ready to crumble from the slightest touch. Richie inched closer to the forgotten shrine, a soft whisper coaxing him closer, but he couldn’t understand what was being said. They slowly grew louder, a low grumble, a roar almost, accompanying the many whispers that filled his ears. His fingers reached out, mere inches from the shrine, fingertips caressing the crown when—

 

“Richie!” Georgie called from up ahead. The voices vanished as Richie twisted his head away, seeing Georgie at the end of the tunnel, his brilliant wings creating a halo around his smiling face. “You gotta check this out!” 

 

Richie followed, the youngest angel to the mouth of the tunnel, space suddenly getting larger as they stepped into a great hollowed out part of Tenebris. His eyes peered upwards, the mountain’s peak visible from where they stood. A small ray of sunlight created a glowing beam that cast down onto the rocky floor beneath their feet. 

The sound of the wind could be faintly heard from outside as if they were inside of a home rather than a mountain. As they walked into the large, almost circular cavern, their footsteps echoed off the large walls, the sound beginning to become not just two pairs of feet but twenty, forty, multiplying with some peculiar rhythm.

 

“Wow…” Georgie gasped, the sound echoing around them. His eyes glued upwards as he came to stand in the ray of light that cast over his skin. He smiled, the halo around him growing larger as he basked in its light. 

 

Richie turned away from the angel to the faded paintings of the wall. They were all inscribed with the same markings on the entrance of the cave and the walls, underneath the etchings, were muddled paintings of the same crown, now lined with deep crimson colors like a dark halo. The sight fascinated him, and his brow knitted as he peered up at the writing, once again running his fingers over the etchings. 

 

“Wuh-what are you looking at?” 

A figure came to stand beside Richie, and his head turned to see the highest angel now peering up at the same painting. He smiled at the familiar sight.

“Wondering where you two went,” Richie chuckled, looking behind himself to see Audra talking to Georgie. “Bet you two were goin’ at it like—”

“Nope. Shut up.” Bill supplied quickly, though he laughed through his words. His eyes still gazed up at the painting with curiosity. “But really, wuh-what is this?”

Richie only shrugged with a heavy sigh. “Not a clue.”

 

“Stop looking at that boring stuff,” Georgie called from behind them, both angels turning to the direction of the echoing sound. “Come check this out!”

 

Audra was walking behind Georgie in a straight line, eyes glued to the ground. Richie’s brow knitted at the sight. “What the hell?” 

Heel and toe were the prophet and the angel’s feet, one after another in a large ring that stretched out in the middle of the cavern. She looked up at the two angels with a smile. “Take a look at this.” She stopped, stepping outside the circle while Georgie continued his trek around the large circle.

 

Bill got to his knees, brushing off the dust and small rocks that covered most of the detail of the ring. Every swipe of his hand revealed curves and intertwining curls around the ring, and on the inside was the same etching that seemed to appear around the cave.

He hummed in thought, getting to his feet again and kicking away some of the dirt with his bare feet. “Richie h-help me out h-here.”

 

Richie nodded, walking around the outer edge of the circle, following the line that slowly took him in loops that became somewhat of a spiral within the circle, getting closer and closer until he was suddenly in the middle, standing directly under the beam of light from the peak of the mountain next to Georgie. His gaze met Bill’s, who too wore a look of confusion. 

 

“What  _ is  _ this?” Richie asked as he and Bill stepped over to Audra. 

The young prophet was knelt by the lip of the circle, looking at the inscription. She looked up, brow knitted. Her gaze met Bill’s, the Richie’s. She peered behind them at the same painting the two angels had examined moments ago.

 

“I…” Her green eyes narrowed for a moment, eyes looking down at the inscriptions her fingertips were still splayed out on, tracing over them and murmuring some old forgotten language to herself, repeating the mantra. As she did so, her eyes began to widen, hands suddenly leaving the stone floor. 

 

The ring began to glow, the surrounding area becoming warm under their bare feet. The earth groaned like a disturbed beast, the mountain aching with some pain like a living organism. It pulsed like a heartbeat, thrumming over and over again and echoing with the moaning of the ground beneath their feet. 

 

“What the—” Richie gasped, looking to Bill, but he wasn’t next to him. The angel of Time was at the lip of the ring, his bare feet red hot like he stood on hot coals. “Bill!” 

He called to him, but the being didn’t hear his name, eyes glued to the cherub suspended in the middle of the glowing ring. The young angel’s eyes were hypnotized by the light. His wings glowed, the light now impossibly bright as he was slowly lifted from the ground against his will.

 

“GEORGIE!” Bill screamed, trying to push through a barrier he couldn’t see, one that when touched, heated up like fire, glowing a deep crimson and making him groan with pain as he tried to push through the barrier that separates him from his brother. 

 

Richie ran to him. Standing next to the angel, the soles of his feet burned and sizzled like cooking meat. He gripped Bill’s left arm, Audra on his right, both pulling him away from the ring.

 

“Bill,” Audra cupped the angel’s face once they were safe from the heat of the ring. The angel gasped, focusing to his prophet’s voice around the cracking and moaning of Tenebris. “Bill listen to me.” 

He nodded.

“I’m going to get him. I can go in.”

The words didn’t register for a moment, and Bill blinked, blue eyes going wide.

“A-Audra, no yuh-you can’t!” He protested, gripping his lover’s forearm as she tried to pull away. She didn’t stop for a moment, running from the angel’s grip while the two beings raced after her.

 

Bill stopped at the edge of the ring again before he was pulled back by Richie. Both of them stood, hands clasped together with white-knuckle grips while they watched the prophet. 

 

Beyond the swirling crimson tendrils, Audra raced to the young angel in suspension. She leaped into the air, gripping Georgie’s ankles. Once she had a firm grip, the barrier dropped, and she took the limp cherub into her arms, unable to decipher his face. Audra got to her knees, holding the limp figure in her arms. 

 

“...Georgie..?” Bill could hear her soft voice call to him, but no reply was heard. The Angel of Time got to his knees, his chest aching with sorrow. 

“A-Audra?”

Bill’s head lifted up, seeing Georgie finally regain consciousness. A gasp of relief flew through his lungs, leaping to his feet. He watched the young woman clutch Georgie in her arms with a sob of joy, stroking the angel’s shimmering wings while they knelt in the circle.

 

Both Bill and Richie rushed to the lip of the ring trying to get through, but they were still unable to. 

“Wait…” Richie’s eyes met Bill’s with a look of worry.

 

The ring of orange traveled around the loop Richie had uncovered, spinning around until it met the two figures in the middle. Georgie and Audra both lept to their feet as the ground began to shake again, this time contained within the ring. They rushed to the edge of the ring, to meet the two angelic beings on the other side, eyes wide with fear as the rock beneath their feet grew hotter and hotter. 

 

“Bill!” Audra cried from the other side, looking behind her.

“It’s okay,” Bill tried to reassure her from the other side, trying to press his hand against his lover’s but was only met with a terrible lick of heat.

 

As the spiral began to separate, the cracks become larger and larger. From the cracks came the shrieks and screams of some terrible thing. Roars of monstrosity made the walls shake and tremble with their vibrations. The sound was Earth-shattering, making both Audra and Georgie cover their ears from being so close to the source.  

Tendrils of steam rose higher and higher, but the scent that accompanied it made all four of them gag. It engulfed them with the scent of decay, choking on the suffocating smell of mortality. The rocks groaned and heaved with every movement, rumbling and pulsing once more.

 

“Richie? Bill? Wh-what’s happening?” Georgie sobbed, wide brown eyes locked on his older brother, hands pressed to the barrier, but unable to get through. 

 

Tears welled in Bill’s eyes as he watched cracks begin to form under their feet, unable to reach his little brother. His hands still pressed to the fiery force field, the invisible flames licking his fingers and making him sob. “It—” He choked. “It’s gonna buh-buh-be okay, oh-okay?” He stuttered out through his tears, his right hand suddenly being taken into Richie’s. 

 

From behind Georgie and Audra, soot-covered hands began to creep up in multitude, turning into tens, hundreds, snaking up the sides of the rocks and reaching out in miraculous numbers. They climbed and crawled around the hot spirals, inching closer and closer to the lip of the ring where Audra and Georgie resided. 

They backed against the edge of the ring, the barrier that Audra was once able to pass through now kept her trapped. Her hand clasped Georige’s, both of them watching wide-eyed as the cracks and the mangled hands came closer and closer.

 

“Bill, Richie, pl-please, pl-please do something!” Georgie sobbed, looking at the angels with red eyes, bleary with tears. All the angel of Time could do was stand at the edge, as much as the heat burned his skin. His left arm was still gripped by Richie, who desperately tried to pull him back from the heat. 

 

“Bill,  _ please _ .” Richie tried to urge, but Audra kept repeating the angel’s name over and over again, her fearful, sorrowful voice keeping him out. 

 

The spaces between the tendrils of glowing orange light began to grow larger, a snap ringing through the cold walls of the mountains as a long jagged crack formed in the center of the spiral, splitting it in two. The floor began to cave, trembling as pieces fell inward into the hot glowing light. It pulsed with some great, terrifying energy that dwelled beneath the Earth. 

 

The inner spiral fell through, a jagged circle formed in the middle. With it came an ear-splitting howl of terror, screeching and cackling wildly like a madman. It echoed through the caves, surrounding them with horrible screams of pain and mad delight as larger, more beastly hands gripped the lip of the new-formed pit, climbing upwards to take the angel and the prophet back with them.

 

_ ‘DARLING CHERUB OF LIGHT COME WITH US. ’’  _

 

Audra screamed, gripping onto the small angel’s arm as the floor around them began to fall through. The multitude of arms and hands crawled and scraped at their feet, cornering them against the barrier. 

Georgie cowered, the pitiful sight making Richie’s eyes well with tears. The charred, desperate hands pulled at the small angel’s wings as he sobbed, wide eyes pouring with tears of sorrow. His small hands tried desperately to hold onto Audra. Hands pulled and gripped his wings with a force that pulled him onto his back, the hands desperate to try and pull the young angel’s wings off.

“Bill!” He cried in pain. His ankles were gripped by the large decaying hands, dragging him to the ground. “Bill help!”

His cries made Bill’s knees go weak, watching as his brother got closer and closer to the edge of the glowing light.

 

_ ‘BECOME ONE WITH THE LIGHT. JOIN US, LUMINOUS CREATURE.’  _ The mangled sound was contorted with the voices of thousands, all with ripped vocal chords desperately trying to form one voice but only becoming a mesh of fearsome sound. 

 

Audra tried to grapple for any part of the cherub, falling to her knees as her feet too became enveloped in the grip of hands wet with blood and hot with fire. Desperately, the woman tried to break free, but to no avail. Her hands tried to grip any surface possible, only to have it crumble under her hands, as she was pulled closer and closer to the depths. 

 

The Angel of Light and the prophet were dragged down, helpless. Their fingertips gripped the edge of the crumbling floor, only to have it give way with their cries for help. Their screams of his name echoed through the walls as the light was suddenly swallowed up, and with it, every horrid sound that once filled their ears.

 

They were left in a thrum of silence. The sound of oblivion felt louder than the rage before it, but it was soon cut through by the sound of Bill’s crying. 

 

The angel ripped himself from Richie’s grip, rushing to the center of the room. The beam of light that was once there was now gone, and in its place were the last of his brother’s shimmering wings.

With trembling hands, Bill gathered the feathers into his hands, his tears wetting them now cupped in his palms.

 

Richie gulped, walking to stand by his side. He undid the chain that hung loosely around his neck, his white wings sprouting from his shoulder blades with practiced ease before he knelt down next to the sobbing Angel. 

He had no words. The sound of Bill’s crying was so unhinged, so gut-wrenching, Richie couldn’t find any way to console his counterpart. His arms wrapped around Bill’s shoulders. Richie’s white wings encircled both of them, his silence enough of a comfort that Bill’s crying subsided slightly.

 

“Bill…” Richie started softly, his head resting on the other’s shoulder while he tried to console him. “I’m sorry Bill, I…” 

A soft sniffle came in return. “Y-you…”

Richie blinked, starting to release Bill from his embrace. “...what?”

“This… This wuh-was your fault.” He whispered slowly, almost inaudibly.

“Bill no—”

 

“I-I-it was. Yuh-you’re thu-the one that kept dragging Georgie down here.” Bill got to his feet, fists clenched at his sides. Tears still welled in his eyes, threatening to drip down his cheeks once more. “I-I-if we stayed he’d be fine! Audra wuh-would be fine!” 

 

“Bill no!” Richie snapped back, though his vision started to become blurry with tears. “It’s not! I didn’t— I didn’t know this would happen!” He cried, shaking his head and trying to approach the other angel. 

“NO!” Bill yelled. “I-I told yuh-you this place is dangerous! Yuh-you never listen!”

 

Richie swallowed thickly, sniffling softly while Bill broke down again, hands covering his face. “B-bill I’m s-sorry…” He choked. 

“Sorry isn’t guh-gonna fucking cut it this time, Richie. They’re gone. _You_ did this.” Bill snarled, his face filled with sorrow. 

Richie tried not to let out a physical groan of pain, his stomach suddenly becoming knotted with guilt at Bill's fiery words of truth. 

“I-I’m nuh-never coming back down to this fucking place.” He growled through his tears, taking off the Mask he wore and letting his dark wings rest around his shoulders.

Richie swallowed thickly watching Bill walked away. “Bill—” He began to follow but the angel looked over his shoulder, blue eyes red with tears and narrowed with anger.

“ _ Don’t  _ follow me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao oop


	8. “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth! For your love is better than wine;”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “...who are you looking for?”
> 
> Richie shook his head. “Nothing… we uh… it was a long time ago.” He sighed. “I kind of forgot who I was looking for...” Another laugh, one meant to break the thick air encompassing them, but it only intensified the tension.
> 
> “Funny.”
> 
> Richie’s brow arched. “How?”

Whispers from the lords echoed off the high walls of the throne room. Alone, they were words shared from person to person, but among others, all the voices had meshed into an enormous chorus of secretive sound. Amidst all the chatter stood Eddie. The mysterious doctor had placed himself against the wall away from all the prestige and pompousness that saturated every word that the others whispered. But, even from his spot, he could make out the face of the King sitting upon his throne in between the crowds that lined either side of him. 

The chatter swarmed around Eddie, but still, he kept a watchful eye on Richie. The King was nowhere to be seen for the past two weeks, no inclination to the royal’s whereabouts. During that time Eddie had remained busy about the castle, mostly tending to wounded soldiers of the palace from an ambush attack from some nameless rebellion. Still, he asked the staff, only to be ‘reassured’ that this was normal for the King. Given Richie’s track record, Eddie was less than surprised. 

 

It had been two weeks since Eddie began working in the palace as a doctor; two weeks since he had first left Heaven; two weeks since Eddie had met—no—found Richie.  

He looked exhausted since the last time Eddie had seen him. It wasn’t obvious in his face, but in the shortness of his nails, the obvious nail-biting he had done when no one watched, the rapid drumming of his fingers, though it was inaudible. The bouncing of his leg rarely ceased, trying to focus on what others were saying though his wind swam with trouble.

Richie blinked rapidly as the person before him spoke. Eddie got onto the tips of his toes, straining his neck to see the source of the voice. It was a young woman, a soldier Eddie had stitched up the day before after she came back from Tenebris with a nasty gash in her leg. Madeline, Eddie recalled, or ‘Maddy for short’, as she corrected him.

As she spoke, a hush came over the lords and staff, and her voice began to echo in the large hall.“Your Highness, almost a quarter of the men have gone missing in the past two weeks. A search party was sent to look for them but they haven’t returned either.” Her face was solemn as she spoke, obviously worried for her companions. 

The news made Richie’s face fall, the hand that his head rested in rubbed over his face, his brow knitted with frustration. He let out a dismal sigh. “Anything else?” He muttered with dismay. Madeline nodded. 

 

“The general is requesting your presence.” 

His head darted up, abruptly alert. “What? Why?” He snapped.

“There’s been an account of the plague. A soldier was experiencing hallucinations beforehand, but the infection hasn’t spread.”

Richie cursed under his breath, keeping silent for a second in contemplation. Even from where Eddie stood, he could feel the fury radiating off of the juvenile ancient king, his brow knitted and his eyes ablaze.

The young woman continued when Richie didn’t reply. “He wants you to come to see for yourself—”

“Okay. Fine. Give me two weeks.” Richie grumbled in exasperation before slumping back in his throne with a heavy sigh. His hand covered his face for a moment before he looked over all the people that gazed at him for a word of guidance. The King raised himself up from his throne, getting to his feet.

“You all are dismissed.” He said promptly before he exited the throne room, needing to clear his head.

 

The hall once again erupted with chatter. Before Eddie could become intertwined with all the voices that surrounded him, his name was called. His head turned this way and that until he saw the King by the entrance of the throne room, beckoning him to talk.

 

“Where have you been?” Eddie hissed as he approached the King. The angelic being wore a smirk in return. 

“None of your business, dear doctor.” The nickname made Eddie’s eyes roll, much to Richie’s delight. “Now, you need to get training.”

Eddie’s face contorted into one of confusion and mild repugnance. “What? Why me?”

Richie only smiled. “You’re coming to Tenebris with me, obviously.”

“Rich—Your Highness, with all due respect I don’t think I’m qualified for that.”

Richie snorted, shaking his head. “Which is why you’ll train. I want you to meet me in the training arena an hour.”

Before Eddie could retort Richie’s ridiculous notion, the King was already being called by his advisors, and he was vanishing into the sea of people as quickly as he appeared.

 

**..**

 

Eddie shoved open the large door with a grunt, nearly stumbling in from the sheer force it took. He looked around, taken back by the weapons that lined the walls, gleaming and pristine. War was never something the Angel needed to consider, nor was it something he wanted to consider at any time in the near future. Although he had trained with Beverly multiple times over, the use for weaponry was never a priority for a being whose main power was to heal instead of destroy. 

Eddie quickly blinked out of his starstruck daze when he heard a  _ thwak _ come from the door opposite to him. The blunt sound was followed by a cheer of victory, and Eddie followed the sound into the training arena. It was heard again as he shut the door behind himself, locating the source of the noise in the middle of the field.

 

Bare shoulder blades and torso were slick with sweat. The mess of dark curls was tied haphazardly in a twisting unskilled braid, obviously done by himself. A small throwing knife was gripped tight in the man’s right hand. Shoulders rose and fell with every labored breath, his exhausted body hunched over as he halted for a moment. Eddie watched silently from his spot behind the low fence. 

Shoulders rolled, spine straightened, knuckles cracked. His right arm swung lazily back and the knife still gripped in his hand, steadying himself. The blade cut through the air as it escaped from the man’s hand, hitting the target on the opposite end of the room with another  _ thwak _ , just barely missing the bullseye. A heavy breath came from the figure, a bruised hand running through the damp curls that managed to fall to the front of his face.

 

As the King approached Eddie, he began to speak, but the doctor’s attention was anywhere but the present. His eyes attempted to meet Richie’s but they kept trailing down his taut body. The man was still as lean as Eddie recalled, but his body had become obviously toned from years in battle. Scars lined his chest, each one carrying a different story, a different enemy’s attempt at taking down the angelic being. Eddie’s eyes wandered over the other man’s naked skin, and if he admitted it, wanted desperately to touch Richie.

 

“Doc, are you listening to me?”

Eddie blinked rapidly. The nickname pulled him right out of his trance, a frown of distaste pulling on the corners of his mouth. “It’s  _ Eddie,  _ Your  _ Highness. _ ” He corrected with a grumble, but the King only snickered.

“Alright. Eddie, it is.” He extended his hand to the doctor. “Now quit delayin’ Doc, you gotta get tranin’.”

Eddie rolled his eyes as he took the King’s hand, stepping over the fence. “Why do I have to help you fight off some stupid rebellion when I could be just as fine here?” He asked, arms folding over his chest, leaning against the fence.

“Because,” Richie picked up a sword that hung against the concrete. “There’s only one doctor who’s able to cure the infant plague.” His dark eyes met Eddie’s. “And besides,” He handed a sword to Eddie. “Out of all the personal physicians I’ve had you’re by far the cutest.” The King chuckled at the confused blushing expression he got from Eddie in response. His lips parted into a toothy grin, one Eddie had only recalled in faded memories and fragmented dreams.

“It’s not like there aren’t other doctors that could help you.” Eddie retorted as he tested the weight of the weapon, swinging it lazily like a pendulum.  He hoped the blushing of his cheeks had somewhat subsided or at least were unnoticed with his gaze to the ground. Even after two centuries of distance, somehow Richie was still able to charm his way into the healer’s heart.

Richie shook his head, approaching Eddie with his own sword. “Not like you, they don’t.” A modest smile was on the man’s face when Eddie’s eyes finally met his. The expression sent a wave of nostalgia through him, and he couldn’t help but return the smile.

 

Time began to slow around them, and through Richie’s dark eyes, Eddie could somehow feel all those faded memories they shared, somewhere still lingering in the back of his mind, flickering with the little heat that remained like embers from a fire. The memories that brought Eddie so much happiness, but so much sorrow. His expression softened as he recalled them, attempting to quickly shake them off as he spoke.

 

“So,” Eddie finally cleared his throat, his eyes back on the weapon in his hands. “Training.” He hummed, looking back up to meet Richie’s eyes with a smile. “I should’ve warned you earlier.” He stepped back from the King, raising the sword with two hands. 

Richie’s brow arched, head tilting to the side. “About what? That you’ve never touched a sword in your life?” He teased, swinging the weapon in his hands to impress the ‘unskilled’ physician, but the doctor wasn’t phased in the slightest.

“No,” Eddie mused calmly, watching how Richie’s face changed from one of confidence to one of bewilderment. “I’ll kick your ass, Your  _ Highness _ .”

“I’d love to see you try, Doc.” Richie grinned.

 

The two men lunged at each other. Eddie dodged Richie’s attack for his middle. The sword slashed against his own, the metallic sound echoing around them. Eddie grinned at the surprised look on Richie’s face. He advanced on the King, swiping at his opponent. Their swords clashed again; Richie struggled under the weight of Eddie’s sword before finally pushing the blade away from him with a grunt of triumph.

 

“What was that about kicking my ass, Doc?” Richie grinned up at the other man crowding his space, back pressed to the wall. 

Eddie gave the man a coy smile through his heaving. His hair fell between his eyes, his lips just inches from Richie’s. They grinned at each other for a moment, eyes ablaze with interest. Eddie stepped back into the middle of the ring, twirling the weapon in his hands with ease. “Come over here and find out, Your Highness.”

 

A toothy grin spread across Richie’s face as he approached Eddie, their swords slicing the air as they got close to each other. They danced around the arena, feet mirroring one another. Their blades kept grasping for each other, just inches from piercing the other man’s skin before he was deflected by his opponent. 

Richie’s sword cut the air. The metallic sound rang through their ears as Eddie’s sword struck against the one above his head. He struggled, the swords just inches from his face. Above him, he could hear the King let out a breathy chuckle, and his dark eyes were wide. Eddie groaned, his own weapon fighting against the weight of Richie’s.

 

“So,” The King grunted, a grin on his face as he applied more pressure on the weapon. “this is the best you’ve got, huh, Doc?” 

Eddie grunted, his sword faltering just slightly. His eyes shut tight, fingers gripping the weapon. Eddie forced the blade away from his face, swiping at his opponent’s abdomen. He kicked at Richie’s legs, sending the man onto his back with a grunt. Eddie scrambled away from under the King, getting to his feet. He turned back to the other man, sword pointed downward to the pale exposed throat before him. A devilish grin spread across his face.

 

“I told you,” He said through labored breaths. “It’s  _ Eddie. _ ” 

 

A grin spread across Richie’s face, still laying on the ground. “Not too bad.” He panted, letting his sword fall from his grip. A hand extended out towards, him, but the King shook his head. “I’m okay, don’t worry.” 

Eddie’s brow knitted as Richie got to his feet. “Why would I worry...” His gaze was suddenly glued on the bloodstained hand pressed to the King’s side. Their gazes met. Eddie’s blood ran cold.

 

“Oh my god.” He choked. “I-I-I—” 

“It’s fine! It’s fine.” Richie said instantly, his clean hand clutching the doctor’s shoulder, but Eddie had already begun to fret.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

“I know, It’s my fault for fighting such a hot head.” Richie joked, but his punch line didn’t change Eddie’s demeanor.

“I just need you to take me to my room.” Richie reassured. The wound at his stomach wasn’t horrible, he just needed to be bound, however, he could see the look of frenzy in Eddie’s eyes. “Eddie,” He said calmly. The doctor’s wide, worrisome brown eyes met his own.

“It’s fine, okay? I promise.” Richie smiled. “I just need you to patch me up.”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.” He sighed, visibly calm again. “I can do that.”   

 

**..**

 

The King was escorted to his chambers before Eddie could do so himself. Instead, the doctor was rushed to the infirmary to get supplies needed to tend to the King’s wound. While the nurses all scolded Eddie about his ‘wreckless’ treatment of the King, Eddie had been reassured that his actions would go unpunished. As quickly as he was being pushed into the infirmary, he was given a wicker basket filled with the necessary tools to treat Richie before he was shoved out the door and up the stairs, everyone around him filled with urgency and worry. 

 

Eddie pushed open the door that led into the King’s chambers, the heavy thing creaking over the sound of his voice. “Your Highness?” He asked into the room, looking for the familiar face. 

“There you are! What took you so long, Doc? I’m dyin’ over here!” The King cried, and though Eddie rolled his eyes, he let out a laugh.

“Call me ‘Doc’ one more time and I’ll make bleed again.” Eddie retorted.

“That’s the spirit.” Richie grinned, rising in bed with a slight wince of pain, back pressed to the headboard. His hand pressed the bloody rag to his wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Eddie immediately took notice as the sheets fell off of Richie’s bare frame. He cursed under his breath, rushing to the King’s side.

 

Eddie sat on the side of the bed. He took off the rag, dropping it on the floor. With careful hands, Eddie took the clean cloth in the basket he was given, dousing it with warm water before pressing the rag to Richie’s wound. The other man hissed.

 

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbled. Richie shook his head, placing his hand on Eddie’s. Their eyes met.

“It’s okay,” Richie said quietly, and for once, his face looked genuine. Eddie nodded, focusing back on his task before he began to get lost in the King’s gaze.

 

The room was quiet. There was a stillness that lingered as Eddie worked, like time had stopped. Even the city had seemed to have a hush over it, for not a noise came from the open windows; it was as if even the kingdom had taken a brief pause to let the two lost lovers of the cosmos rest in absolute tranquillity, free of any burden including the ones of noise and time.

 

Eddie worked slowly, fingertips lightly rubbing a serum that was in the wicker basket. The application of it made Richie tense under Eddie’s hand. The doctor looked up, about to apologize again, but Richie shook his head with a small smile in silent reassurance.

 

“So…” The King tried, seeking to cut the silence that he dreaded. “How long have you been doing this?” 

“Uhm,” Eddie fished through the basket for bandages as he fished through his thoughts for a lie. “All my life, really.” He smiled. It wasn’t a lie. Eddie  _ had _ been a healer all his life. And what did Richie even mean by ‘this’? It meant anything really when you—  

“Do you think you’ll stay?”

The mild unrest in Richie’s voice made Eddie look up from the bandages he had begun applying. He bit the inside of his cheek in thought, shaking his head. The King’s expression faltered.

 

“I, uh,” Eddie started, deciding how to address the question. “I’m actually looking for someone.” He said quickly, concentrating on his work as he bound Richie’s wound.

The King chuckled dryly. “ That makes two of us.” The sound made Eddie’s brow knit, but he didn’t glance up as he questioned the King.

 

“...who are you looking for?”

Richie shook his head. “Nothing… we uh… it was a long time ago.” He sighed. “I kind of forgot who I was looking for...” Another laugh, one meant to break the thick air encompassing them, but it only intensified the tension.

“Funny.”

Richie’s brow arched. “How?”

 

Eddie hummed, gently rubbing the bandaged wound. “It’s just…” His hand lingered as he spoke. “I’ve been looking for so long I think they forgot about  _ me _ .” He couldn’t help but laugh. He  _ had _ been forgotten about. His gaze was still cast downward, fingertips grazing the bandaged wound. He thought of how close he was to what he had sought for and yet, so painfully far from the heavenly being he once knew. 

 

A calloused hand rested atop his own, thumb gently rubbing over his knuckles in quiet reassurance. Another hand rested on his bare shoulder, pausing there experimentally, but Eddie made no motion of objection. 

Their gazes met, unfaltering. Behind Richie’s brown eyes, Eddie could feel the flicker of something they both believed to have faded long ago. The light pulled him to the memory, the feeling of what once was. It drew them closer and closer, bodies mere inches from one another.

 

Richie hummed in thought, lips curling into a smirk. 

“What is it, Richard?” Eddie asked quietly, his fingers beginning to intertwine with the ones that rested on his own. After so long, after millennia without the angel, the simplest touch made him remember why he missed Richie so much, why, even though he had been gone for so long, would always be his home.

A sigh came from the King, his brown eyes flicking back and forth between Eddie’s doe-eyed gaze.  “Maybe… if you stay still for a moment to wait for what you are looking for, it’ll find you.” He squeezed Eddie’s hand, their fingers carefully interlocked.

Eddie swallowed thickly, eyes beginning to close as the calloused hand on his shoulder ran up his neck, fingertips brushing patterns into his soft skin. It curled in his dark hair and rested on the nape of his neck, toying with the strands of hair. Eddie felt himself be urged closer and closer, but not once did he open his eyes.

 

“Eddie.” 

His eyes opened, lips inches from the King’s. His eyes were impossibly dark, pupils were blown, and that light behind his eyes flickered with anticipation.

“Stay still.” The King rasped, his whisper sending shivers down Eddie’s spine. He obeyed. Muscles relaxed. Eyes shut. He could feel the gap between them closing, Richie’s lips barely grazing on his own, silently asking for permission. Eddie shuddered, allowing himself to once again be taken under by the angelic king. His hands began to wander up Richie’s shoulders, lips parting so close so closeso _ close _ —

 

“Your Highness!” A raucous rapping came from the door, echoing through the room. The commotion made Eddie jump back, eyes wide with worry as he scrambled to his feet. Before Richie could say anything, a young nurse was bursting through the chamber door.

“Sir—”

“Haven’t you heard of knocking?” Richie growled, resting back in bed with a huff. The woman was stuttering out an apology, but the King simply raised his hand, silencing her. “What is it?”

“We need the doctor’s assistance in the infirmary. I’m terribly sorry, Your Highness.”

 

Richie nodded, dismissing her with a wave of his hand. Eddie had already begun placing all the items back in the wicker basket, about to make his leave when a hand grabbed his wrist. “Now,” Richie grinned as Eddie’s gaze fixed on him. “Where were we?”

Eddie frowned in distaste, freeing himself of the King’s hand. “I have to go.” He grumbled.

“Fine.” The King sighed in exasperation as Eddie began to walk away. “Meet me in the Temple tomorrow morning.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed, turning back to the King. “I thought you never went there. You never answer prayers.” The King’s brow arched, making the angel realize he was starting to reveal his own identity. “F-from what I‘ve been told.”

“You’re right.” Richie laughed heartily; Eddie’s eyes rolled. “But I still go in the early hours of the morning. Meet me there, and we can finish what we started.”

Eddie rolled his eyes at the King’s cheeky grin. “Like it ever began.” He huffed, strolling out of the room while the angelic King tried to counter with a wisecrack behind the closed chamber door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i get ya? ;)


	9. "I am my beloved's, and his desire is for me…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my homie Alyssa (@doorgoblin) for beta-ing this for me!!! I love u b!!!

The sun barely peaked over the horizon, the place where its fingers seemed to creep over a now warm pink unlike the deep blue it was earlier in the night. As the light gradually crept up, the night began to flee in its wake. Though the city was still silent with sleep, one man wandered through the abandoned streets, making his way to the most barren place in the Kingdom, the Temple of Mischief and Luck. 

 

The structure was a wasteland, nearly all signs of inhabitants stripped away from the glistening marble and gold. A thin film of dust covered every surface. As Eddie made his way up, his bare feet left a trail, outlining each of his steps. 

 

He walked through the towering pillars, eyes gazing upwards at the bare marble ceiling and faded inscriptions. Whatever used to decorate it had decayed, almost erased from what used to be. The sight made a lump form in Eddie’s throat, wallowing in the pitiful similarity of the temple and the King’s withered mind. The stone was chipped and tarnished from years of misuse and deterioration that mirrored the angel that once dwelled there. 

 

Eddie called out into the empty space, listening for a response. The only thing he heard in return was mockery from the marble. He let out a huff, realizing his idiotic mistake of thinking Richie would be up in the early hours of the morning.  

As his eyes wandered through the ancient construction, he came upon something. A throne. The gold and marble was covered in dust, faded and forgotten, much like the King’s past. Eddie’s fingers glided over the stone furniture, the film collecting on his skin as he did so. With a huff, the young man took a seat on the floor with his back to the throne. Dust flew up, dancing in rays of sunlight that peaked through the marble columns. Eddie called out again, his voice only echoing around him. Now that he was aware of his solitude, Eddie was finally able to do as he pleased. 

 

His eyes closed, the Caduceus bands that enveloped his wrists and forearms began to glow, the energy warming his skin. Before long, his tall golden harp appeared, the heavenly object sitting between the angel’s legs. Hands ran over the intricate patterns and carvings, a reminiscent smile on Eddie’s lips. His fingers plucked the strings, the beautiful sound bouncing off of the marble and radiating like a heavenly choir. 

 

Eddie hummed, his smile growing wider at the familiar sound. His fingers plucked from muscle memory, recalling an ancient song he composed centuries ago. He hummed with the music, and his voice erupted into a beautiful sound. The melody echoed around him, bouncing back to him like a chorus repeating his wordless ballad. Eyes fluttered shut as he strummed, beginning to recall the lyrics of an old song he composed. As he plucked the strings, the words began to come back, the song was a memory like the angel he once loved. Taking a shaking breath, the healer began signing.

 

_ “Draped in gems and a face divine _

_ The most beautiful erotic concubine  _

 

_ Meek child you sin for us all _

_ Parading as powerful and yet so small _

 

_ Mischievous one, toying with trust _

_ Forever lost forever unjust _

 

_ You passionate god, a work of art _

_ Hardened by solitude and your soul apart _

_ For once my love listen to your heart—” _

  
  


“I haven’t heard someone sing for me in ages.”

 

Eddie stopped, jumping out of his skin. He looked over his shoulder, seeing Richie leaning over the throne with a smile.

“I...” Eddie breathed, looking at the angel before him. He towered behind the marble, large elegant wings blocking the sun. Eddie’s eyes wandered over the body, draped in translucent silks and shimmering jewels. His wings were tremendous, a dazzling majesty of soft brilliantly white feathers. Just as Eddie remembered.

 

“You have a beautiful voice.” The angel mused, sitting down in the throne.

 

Eddie turned to face Richie, disregarding his harp. His breath suddenly caught in his throat as he looked up at the magnificent creature. After centuries, he could finally behold the true form of Richard. Just as marvelous as Eddie recalled. “You’re…” He breathed, eyes wide in awe of the figure.

 

Richie chuckled, his lips spreading into a smirk. “Thought I was lying?” Long fingers reached out, running Eddie’s soft curls. The feeling cut off whatever sentence he was going to retort with, suddenly under the beautiful angel’s spell. He tilted his head up, his brown eyes becoming impossibly wide as he looked up at Richie. That gaze tugged at something dormant in Richie’s heart, those brown eyes knocking the wind from his chest.

 

“Eddie.” He breathed, unsure if he was addressing the figure before him or the mystery in heaven.

“Yes?” The man on his knees answered softly. Eddie wanted to pull away, but the touch felt so familiar. His body craved his angelic lover. He waited patiently, wanting to finish what the started the previous night.  

He watched Richie’s face, seeing the wheels turning. His heart jumped, hoping that somewhere he was remembering. Eddie ached to say something, but he stayed quiet, waiting for the King’s command. “Richard?” He asked again, wetting his lips as the angel drew closer.

 

When the gap finally closed between them, Eddie let out a heavy sigh of relief, his fingers suddenly tangled in the angel’s long dark curls. Their kisses were messy and passionate, desperate to feel again, chasing after the feeling thought to be lost centuries ago. Eddie’s grip was tight. His knuckles hurt as he pulled the angel closer and closer. Eddie made a small noise of pleasure into the other’s mouth, eyes shut tight as he tried to catalog the moment. 

 

They pulled away, gasping into each other’s mouths. Richie’s hands still cradled Eddie’s face as if he were to break. His hands made Eddie melt, feeling safe, but as he looked into Richie’s eyes, he could see a fire set ablaze.

 

“I want to finish what we started last night…” Richie murmured, his thumb running over Eddie’s wet lower lip, quietly marveling in how angelic the man looked before him. His legs fell open as he slouched back into the marble. Dark eyes gazed down at Eddie possessively. 

 

Richie wet his lips. “Come here.” 

The healer did as he was told, becoming wedged in between the King’s spread legs. Eddie felt suffocated by his presence, body, and words. It surrounded him, drowned him.

 

Eddie looked up at Richie, lips parting to speak but he was cut off by the angel’s dark chuckle. “What’s wrong?” He purred, his fingers tilting Eddie’s head up. Their eyes met. 

 

“Never worshiped a God before?”

 

Speechless, Eddie swallowed, hypnotized by the angel’s impossibly dark eyes. He felt encompassed by his power, desperate to touch his forgotten lover. The old familiar feeling crashed over Eddie in waves, and he ached to drown in them once more.

 

“Come closer…” Long fingers held his chin, pulling him close in between the other man’s thighs. 

Eddie wet his lips, moving closer in between the King’s legs. His eyes were wide, waiting for his word. He wanted to touch the king, but he waited, commanded by those fiery eyes.

Richie chuckled as if he knew. “A little closer, hm? I want to feel your breath against my skin, Darling.”

The name sent a rush through Eddie, doing as he was told until Richie’s spread legs were on either side of him. He still gazed up at the king, heart throbbing in his chest with anticipation.

 

His fingers ran over Richie’s legs, palms resting on the inside of his thighs. The silk that covered Richie’s body barely hid anything from Eddie. His mouth watered, slowly parting the fabric to expose the other’s half-hard cock. The head seemed as red as the leaves that hung from the trees surrounding the ruins, The latest fall leaving the leaves to die. A vein ran up the side, begging to be touched. Eddie caught his lower lip in between his teeth, sucking in a breath as he reached out to touch the King. Fingers roughly gripped his hair. Eddie froze, glancing up for direction. 

 

“Ah, ah, love. Hands on your thighs.” Richie couldn't help but grin as Eddie listened to him. Eddie was sure that Richie meant for the grin to seem  _ sexy _ , when in reality Eddie thought he almost looked drunk. He chuckled softly, gasping as Richie touched his face. Tenderly, his fingers cupped the side of Eddie’s freckled face, taking his chin into his hand.

 

“Open your mouth.”

 

Eddie swallowed, parting his lips. His tongue stuck out, hiding his teeth. His gaze never faltered even though his heart pounded. As the tip of Richie’s cock rested on his tongue, Eddie could hear him hum with praise. The sound sent a familiar rush through him. He began to suck eagerly, taking what he was given as the angel’s cock began to slide into his mouth with a slick noise. Richie’s familiar taste— which reminded him of fermented fruit—had Eddie humming with pleasure, sucking around his thick length. 

 

Fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer in between those pale thighs. Eddie moaned around Richie’s cock, eyes fluttering shut as he listened to the angel fall apart above him. Even though he was on his knees for the King, Eddie felt a sense of pride, being able to make the ancient being fall apart in so little time like the ruins around them. The thought made him moan again, and in turn, he received another cry of pleasure from the angel. 

 

“Just like that baby, you have such a perfect mouth.” Richie’s filthy words made the man on his knees tremble. Oh, how he missed that sinful voice. He missed the way that Richie confidently cursed in his ear, despite how it might sound to Eddie. Despite how ruin he sounded when he rambled on. 

“Those pretty lips were made for my cock—” Richie gasped, lowering his head and focusing on the movement of his hips as they became more erratic. His breath became ragged, moans falling from his lips without hesitation.

 

Eddie’s own fingers were tangled in his clothing, focusing on pleasing the angel while is own cock stood hard under his garments. He ached to be touched; He ached to listen. 

 

“Look at me, baby.” Eddie’s wide doe eyes began to water, making them look impossibly wide when he looked up at Richie. He looked a quite good mess. 

The King groaned. He stilled his hips for a moment, cupping the side of Eddie’s face. His thumb dragged over his cheekbone as he spoke through ragged breaths. “So perfect.”

 

Eddie hummed again, still suckling on the head of Richie’s cock while those dark eyes watched him.  He bobbed his head up and down, focusing on pleasing the King. He kept his fingers in his own clothing to restrain himself, dazed eyes fixed on the angelic being falling apart above him.

 

The angel’s voice began breaking into a sob, pale thighs shaking as his body became hot like fire. Eddie watched, silently pleased. Richie’s back arched off the throne and his wings fluttered quickly. Long fingers tangled in his brown curls as he was forced down onto Richie’s cock.

 

“Ah! Fuck!—” Richie moaned, head tossing back as he spilled into Eddie’s mouth. Under him, Eddie moaned, eyes shutting tight as he swallowed the angel’s cum. It burned the back of his throat like lava, the taste nowhere near mortal. His fingers still had a white knuckle grip in his tunic, his own cock pulsing with need.

 

Slowly, Richie loosened his grip on Eddie’s head, pulling out of his warm wet mouth and watching saliva drip off the man’s lower lip. He cursed under his breath, taking Eddie’s face into his hand and running his thumb over the doctor’s plum wet lip. Eddie’s lips surrounded the digit, sucking slowly for a moment before Richie retracted his hand with an appreciative hum.

 

“Perfect. Absolutely perfect.” Richie purred.

“So I’ve been told, Your Highness.” Eddie chuckled with a coy smile, eyes closing as those long fingers carded through his hair once again. The King’s gaze made Eddie thrum with possession, feeling an affection he thought he had lost with Richie. Richie’s face suddenly looked scorned, a look of jealousy flashing across it.

“Others have told you you’re perfect?” He asked stupidly, Eddie letting out an ugly snort.

“No, I was referring to  _ you _ ,” Eddie explained, rolling his eyes before resting his head on Richie’s still twitching thigh. Richie let out a soft  _ oh  _ of understanding, staring down at him.

 

“Come with me.” Richie extended his hand. Eddie took it. The silks around Richie’s legs fell back into place as he began walking, his fingers still gently intertwined with the doctor’s. He wasn’t sure why he was being so gentle to him, but those eyes played on his heartstrings, and Richie longed to take him piece by piece until Eddie was is own. He needed it, but he would never voice it. 

 

Up a winding staircase was a second floor, completely open with a perfect view of the horizon. The sun illuminated the space, the heat instantly warming their skin. In the middle of the space was a canopy bed, low to the ground and shrouded in pillows. 

 

“Come,” Richie murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed. Eddie followed, standing in between his legs. 

The King hummed, pulling the man close to him. He noticed the tent that had formed under Eddie’s clothing, chuckling quietly.

Eddie’s cheeks burned with full awareness of what had caught the angel’s attention. A coy smile was on Richie’s lips as their eyes met, making the other man’s cock twitch with interest.  

 

Fingers ran up his hips, tracing over ever divot in his skin and resting comfortably on the tops of his thighs. The fabric of Eddie’s tunic became bunched up in Richie’s hands, but still not yet revealing anything but his smooth tan thighs. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yes.” Eddie rasped without missing a beat.

Richie’s grin grew wider, letting go of Eddie completely and lightly pushing the man back. He hummed softly, head tilting back as a satisfied grin spread on his face.

 

“Strip.” 

 

The wind knocked out of Eddie’s chest with those words. Richie didn’t speak again, only looking up and down at him with an arched brow. Impacientness was already starting to grow with his hungry gaze. 

 

Eddie began to disrobe before him. Richie’s wings fluttered with his smile of approval, wide, dark eyes were glued to him. Each piece of cloth fell to the floor unceremoniously, a pool of soft fabric settled around Eddie’s feet. Shoulders were bare, his slim frame and collarbones somehow glowing in the early morning sunrise. The silks around his waist were removed, leaving the doctor bare in front of the angel. The gaze of God didn’t falter for a second. 

 

“Beautiful.” 

Eddie’s shoulders rolled back in mild defiance, his guard and confidence back in place again. “Thank you, Your Highness.” He breathed.

Enigmatic eyes raked over his body. He stood bare in front of the King, and yet, he was still being undressed, his gaze practically peeling away at the confident facade Eddie cloaked himself in. It possessed him; he felt his limbs go weak as the King spoke.

“Come.”

 

Eddie did as he was told, despite how a small part of him wanted to rebel for the sake of it, his cock twitching in between his legs. Large hands rested on his hips, pulling him close in between his still spread legs. Richie’s hands trailed down over Eddie’s thighs, squeezing lightly. 

 

“You’re so eager… ” Richie’s deep, gentle voice sent shivers down his spine. The King’s grin wide, a devious gleam in his eyes. Long fingers once again were traveling up Eddie’s thighs, gently squeezing his flesh and making him hot to the touch. “What do you want?” He asked, mockingly.

"You…” Eddie murmured, finding himself already bending to Richie’s will. “I want you to touch me.”

The dark chuckle from the King made Eddie shiver. “Show me.” Richie purred. “Show me how much you want me.”

 

Eddie swallowed thickly taking his own cock into his hand and stroking over himself slowly. A whimper bubbled in his throat.

“Don’t be shy…” Richie hummed, his hands keeping their place on Eddie’s hips to keep him close.

 

Eddie’s eyes fluttered shut, letting out a shuddering breath. He took more confidence in his movements, his thumb swiping over the slit of his cock and using the precum to ease the friction. A sigh left his throat, becoming more fluid in his movements as he twisted his wrist. Under him, Richie murmured words of praise, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into the side of his hip. 

“Just like that,” Richie hummed, watching Eddie’s face contort with pleasure. The man cried out, squeezing his cock and moving his hand faster up. Eddie whimpered again, refusing to look into Richie’s dark eyes and fall victim to his lust filled gaze.

 

“Now, Eddie,” Richie cooed, his eyes meeting Eddie’s heavy-lidded ones. “Ask.”

“Touch me.” Eddie blurted with desperation, his hand still moving.

“What was that?”

“ _ Please  _ touch me.” Eddie’s face burned with shame and desire. The hungry gaze he got in return for his efforts had the doctor melting in the King’s palm.

 

“Good boy.” Richie hummed, pressing his lips to the tan skin in front of him and leaving tender kisses on his abdomen. His hands wandered as he sucked a bruise into Eddie’s skin, cupping the man’s ass and kneading his soft flesh. Eddie whimpered as he drew his hand away from his cock.

 

“Lay down.” Richie murmured into his soft skin, letting the doctor move onto the comfortable pillows and blankets. He was quick to listen, resting back against the mountains of pillows. Richie quietly admired Eddie’s eagerness to obey, humming softly as he got to his feet. He strode over to the left side of the bed, taking Eddie’s chin into his hand and caressing his face. The touch was so tender, one that he rarely used with previous lovers, but he felt was necessary when treating his new lover. 

 

“So good for me…” He murmured, letting his fingers run absentmindedly through those soft brown curls while he examined the familiar stranger’s face. 

The praise sent a wave of pleasure through Eddie, straight to his aching cock. It jarred him how much he needed to hear Richie’s praise even after so much time apart. Even so, he was desperate to hear more.

“Thank you, your highness.” He murmured quietly, letting himself be molded in the angel’s hands.

 

He was given a warm smile in return before Richie turned his attention away from him. Eddie could hear the clattering of jewelry and the shift of fabric as Richie disrobed. He waited quietly, looking up at the faded ceiling that was becoming illuminated by the rising sun. With the sun’s light cascading over the marble, Eddie could see dull inscriptions in an ancient dialect, the images holding his attention for a moment. 

 

“Spread.” 

 

Eddie looked up, seeing the angel back on the edge of the bed. He swallowed thickly, bending his knees and opening his legs to accommodate the King. Those dark eyes made him feel so helpless, so exposed. Even if he had done this with Richie before, he felt different under that powerful stare, practically melting for him. 

 

Eddie looked back up at the ceiling again, letting out a shaking breath as he attempted to relax. Hands ran over his skin, up his spread calves and resting on his knees. Eddie could feel the weight of the cushions shift. His breath hitched as Richie’s large hands splayed out on his thighs, silently spreading them further apart. Without question, Eddie complied, swallowing a whimper that had bubbled in his throat. 

 

“Relax.” A voice hushed in his ear. Wet lips pressed to his ear and then to his neck. Eddie whimpered, feeling a slick warm finger brush his hole. “Relax, Eddie.” His dark voice came again, smooth like silk and warm like the sun. He nodded in response, his fingers tugging experimentally at the sheets as Richie’s index finger circled his hole. 

 

“ _ Richie _ …” He gasped as the thick digit slowly pushed in. He clutched onto Richie’s shoulders. Eddie tried his best to relax, his voice already faltering from the shallow thrusts of Richie’s finger. Above him, the angel was kissing his neck, mouthing at his tan skin and peppering him with small bites. 

 

“You sound so pretty.” Richie murmured against the other’s skin, curling his finger inside Eddie’s tight warmth. The choked noise he got his response made him chuckle, the dark sound rumbling against Eddie’s neck. “Just like that, baby… let me hear you.”

 

He repeated the action before adding a second finger. Soft gasps of pleasure were heard under him, and Richie felt a little pleased knowing how he could take the doctor apart. He rose himself up to watch Eddie, driving the two digits into his lover with a little more force. 

 

Eddie’s eyes fluttered. “Oh… fuck.” 

 

“Beautiful,” The angel hummed, watching Eddie’s face contort and become hot with pleasure. With a twist of his wrist, he had Eddie scrambling for purchase on his shoulders, mouth agape as he moaned the angel’s name. Richie couldn’t help but smile at his handiwork, thrusting his two fingers in and out of Eddie’s tight hole. 

 

“You’re so tight, baby...” Richie purred, stopping his hand. Eddie whimpered, quietly panting. His chest heaved up and down, heart thumping within. A hand pressed to his sternum. “Relax for me,” Richie repeated for the millionth time. Their eyes met. 

 

Richie had done this countless times. He could barely recall a night he had spent alone in his bed. They were all the same, all so pliant, so desperate to be touched, and yet, as his eyes met Eddie’s there was something different. Eddie’s gaze was a desperate plea for touch, there was another type of desperation that lingered. It pulled at Richie’s heart, stopping his usual routine and pulling him back to something he forgot. Somewhere in the back of his mind, amidst the haze, something was calling out to him. 

 

“R-relax,” Richie said again, swallowing thickly as he attempted to ignore the plucking of his heart.

Eddie nodded, breathing out slowly and letting his legs become pliant and open for the angel. His movements were quietly praised, followed by the slow thrusts of his fingers again. The movements felt like they went on forever, and Eddie ached for more. He let out a huff, planting his feet on the bedding to try and rock down onto Richie’s fingers.

 

Eddie was felt empty. 

 

“Eager?” Richie taunted with a chuckle as he pulled his fingers out. 

“No, no pl-please don’t stop.” He whined, keeping his legs spread open for the angel.

The desperate expression played on Richie’s heartstrings, the sun’s rays dancing over Eddie’s glowing skin. “I wasn’t planning on it.” He purred, shoving his fingers back into Eddie’s hole roughly. The man under him let out a sob, head tossing back. The sight was intoxicating, making Richie’s cock throb in between his legs. 

 

His fingers curled upwards, brushing against Eddie’s prostate. The choked noise that strained from his throat had Richie groaning as well. He could feel Eddie’s short ragged breaths. His wrist twisted, angling his fingers upwards to hit that spot over and over. The grin that pulled on Richie’s lips was completely uncontrollable, so satisfied with how he could make the doctor fall apart. 

 

Eddie’s lips were wet, heavy breaths falling from his open mouth. Richie still crowded his space, his presence enveloping him into a vulnerable state. A whimper fell from his lips, eyes fluttering shut as he felt himself teetering on the edge of an orgasm. 

 

“ _ Richie… _ ” He whined, the noise so soft, filled with so much need. The sound made something stutter in the King’s chest, his fingers stopping for a moment, but his stillness made Eddie whine again, desperate for release. Richie swallowed, thrusting his fingers up into Eddie’s tight heat and watching as the man under him came with a shout. White ropes of cum decorated Eddie’s chest, his voice a cry of pleasure as his head tossed back onto the sheets. 

 

“Richie! Richie!” He sobbed the angel’s name like a mantra, eyelids fluttering rapidly. Richie watched him, eyes wide. The angel’s eyes were fixed on Eddie, completely entranced with the stranger writhing with pleasure. Without another thought, he leaned over, pulling Eddie into a kiss. They both moaned, mouths open and pliant as they explored one another. 

 

Richie’s hands roamed over Eddie’s body, collecting the man into his arms. As Eddie became situated in his lap, his large white wings enveloped the man, pulling them close. Richie’s hands roamed over Eddie’s smooth shoulder’s lips pressed to his neck. Above him, he could hear the man whisper his name again, his voice soft.

 

“Yes?” The angel answered, mouthing at the curve of Eddie’s neck. 

“I…” Eddie’s fingers tangled in Richie’s long dark curls, letting out a content sigh. “I want more. I want to feel you.” He breathed, eyelids fluttering at the thought.

“Say it.” Richie breathed, wanting to see the man beg. A whine came from the man in his lap.

“Need you,” Eddie breathed, straddling his leg. “I need your cock filling me,  _ please.” _

 

Richie watched with a satisfied smile as Eddie attempted to get himself off by rutting down on his thigh. A choked noise of frustration came from the man, his cock rutting against Richie’s thigh, already slick with precum. The angel made no attempted to stop him, only watching with hungry eyes. Usually, he took on as much control as possible, but he enjoyed watching how pliable Eddie could get, let him have the upper hand in some way. His words drew his lips into a coy smile, finger, and thumb holding Eddie’s chin. 

 

“Please  _ who _ ?” 

“Pl-please Richard, your highness…”

“Again.”

“Your Highness… Richard,  _ please _ .”

 

The fingers that gently kneaded Eddie’s soft flesh suddenly dug in slightly. The wings that encircled Eddie moved inwards, pulling him closer to the angel. He was wanted—no, needed. The idea that Richie needed him again sent a rush through Eddie, and his fingers tugged at the curls entangled in his fist, pulling a groan from the King. 

 

“Oh my God _,_ _pl-please touch me!_ ” Eddie practically sobbed, his cock aching to be touched.

 

Without any hesitation, Richie crashed their lips together in a hungry passionate kiss. Their breaths were heavy against one another. Hands roamed over skin. A desperate, unnamed ache thrummed through the lost lovers, hopeless to feel one another again in a way they thought to be lost in memory or a fraction of a dream, and yet, as their lips moved against one another, a spark flickered, a memory rekindled. 

 

They broke apart for a moment. Eddie maneuvered himself on Richie’s lap, resting on his knees above the angel. Richie’s hands immediately went to his hips, holding onto him. Their eyes locked for a moment, making Richie’s heart stutter in his chest. The feeling was foreign, but with the beautiful man straddling his hips, he welcomed it.

 

Slowly, Eddie sank down on Richie’s cock, eliciting a moan from both of them. Eddie’s head tipped back, gasping as he bottomed out. His eyes fluttered shut, reveling in the closeness he had craved for centuries. 

 

Richie groaned. “ _ Eddie. _ ” The grip he held on the other Eddie’s hips grew tighter as their bodies became one. His wings fluttered, wrapping around Eddie as the man began moving his hips. The tight warmth that surrounded his cock made Richie groan. 

 

Slowly, Eddie began moving. His eyes closed, head lowering onto Richie’s shoulder. A groan fell from his parted lips, trying to get used to the feeling after so long. Richie groaned with him, guiding his hips up and down on his cock. The heat that surrounded him made his head fall back, damp curls tossing. 

 

Richie watched how Eddie’s face was contorted in concentration, his breath becoming heavier as he moved up and down on his cock. Those sunkissed brown eyes gazed into his own. “ _ Richie… _ ” He gasped, his jaw dropping as he bottomed out on Richie’s cock. He rocked his hips from side to side, reveling in the way he was filled up. 

 

“You’re so big…” Eddie gasped, a trembling hand resting on his lower abdomen, feeling as though Richie was filling him up completely. He hummed with pleasure, eyelids fluttering. The sight drew a hungry moan from the angel. Fingers dug into his thighs, eager to thrust up into that tight heat and watch Eddie fall apart. 

 

Above him, Eddie let out soft gasps, settling on Richie’s lap for a moment to catch his breath. The feeling of Eddie clench around his cock had Richie groaning, trying to restrain himself from thrusting up into that tight warmth. His hands went to Eddie’s ass, squeezing and kneading his flesh. Before Eddie could start moving, Richie planted his feet on the sheets, thrusting his hips. 

 

Eddie let out a noise of surprise, his mouth falling open as the angel repeated the motion. His right hand was curled in Richie’s hair, the other gripping his shoulder. As Richie thrust erratically into his hole, Eddie followed his movements. The rough feeling made him moan, grappling for support on Richie’s shoulders. He bounced in the angel’s lap, his voice coming out in quick, forced breaths with every rough thrust into his hole. 

 

“Uh, uh, uh, R-richie—” He groaned, tucking his face into the crook of the angel’s neck. Soft feathers brushed against his spine, closing him in the deity’s full embrace. He felt wanted; he felt safe. Fingers gripped Eddie’s waist, holding him firm as Richie slammed into him. The movement made Eddie cry out, his head tossing back. Richie grinned under him, watching the doctor shake madly in his lap. 

 

“So beautiful,” He panted, his voice rough and deep. “Y’look so pretty all fucked out on my cock, baby.” Eddie nodded frantically, his voice getting an octave higher as his moans became breathless gasps. 

 

“It’s like you were made for me.” Richie purred, his lips pressing to Eddie’s neck and sucking a bruise there. His words sent a rush through Eddie. He whined, trying to move with Richie but only bouncing in the angel’s lap. 

 

“Yes,” He panted, fingernails digging into Richie’s shoulders. “I was made for you, my Lord.”  His needy words drew another moan from the angel, his hips thrusting up harder. 

 

Eddie trembled in his lap, his face once again buried into the crook of the other’s shoulder. He moaned again, his legs trembling as he tried to keep himself from collapsing into the angel. With his head resting on Richie’s shoulder, he attempted to ground himself, clutching onto his shoulders. He felt a pang in his chest to be close to Richie,  _ his  _ Richie. A cry left his lips again as he clung to his forgotten beloved, wanting to be as intimate as possible. 

 

“Are you,” Richie panted, his brows knit. “Why are you crying?” His movements began to slow down.

 

Eddie blinked as he raised his head, feeling his cheeks wet with tears. “I uh,” He moved, suddenly realizing what he meant. He used the back of his shaking hand to wipe his face dry. “Sorry.” 

 

A gentle hand cupped his cheek, and Eddie flinched slightly. Their eyes met, Richie’s gaze kind. Without another word, his lips were pressed to Eddie’s own, taking his time as he kissed him. Fingers ran through his damp curls, holding him close. Eddie felt himself fall onto his back on the bed, the angel hovering over him. 

 

Richie moved in languid movements, each thrust deep inside Eddie to make him cry out. It was slow, and each deep thrust took Eddie apart, his voice becoming a sob of what it used to be. His legs wrapped around Richie’s waist, pulling them closer together. Above him, Richie’s long dark curls fell in front of his face, tickling Eddie’s collarbone as the angel began to kiss at his neck. 

 

“Rich— _ oh fuck, _ ” Eddie gasped, eyelids fluttering. His hands searched on Richie’s shoulders, his fingers brushing over the soft feathers of his wings. The beautiful appendages brushed against Eddie’s sides, tucking underneath his arms. It was instinctual. The need to be close burned inside Richie and Eddie’s body shuddered, holding the divinity closer and closer as he yearned for the same thing. 

 

“ _ Faster, _ ” Eddie panted, his eyes shut tight. “Please Richie I need you—” He gasped as Richie’s hips snapped forward with his pleading. “Want your cum.” He whined. Fingernails dug into the angel’s soft freckled flesh, pulling a groan of pleasure from him. 

 

As Richie watched Eddie, his breath began to quicken, his chest aching with a need to please the man under him. It was a foreign feeling, after having so many partners for his own pleasure. But now, as he watched Eddie sob for more, he wanted to give, to please, to  _ obey.  _

 

Richie’s voice grew louder as he got closer, his eyes shut tight as he focused. His mouth fell open, eyelids fluttering.

“ _ Eds! _ ”  Richie’s voice was a cry as he came, head tossing back. He moaned with him as he spilled into Eddie’s hole. Cum splattered onto his and Eddie’s stomachs. He could feel Eddie trembling under him, his hole fluttering around his cock still buried deep inside of him.

 

Slowly, Richie pulled out, both of them groaning at the sudden loss. With a shaking hand, he cupped Eddie’s face, his skin hot to the touch. He brought their lips together again, slow and unrushed. Richie was unsure why he did so, but the kiss dampened the need within him to be close to the man. 

 

With a tired sigh, Richie rolled onto his side, his wings closing around his shoulders as he panted. He looked over at Eddie, the sunlight dripping onto his sweat-slick skin and beautiful brown curls. He looked so peaceful, still glowing. Before he could stop himself, Richie was already speaking. “You’re so beautiful…”

Their eyes met, lingering on one another. Eddie swallowed.

 

“Thank you, Your Highness.” He said, his voice soft and breathless. Eddie inched closer, and as he did so, Richie’s fingers extended towards him in a silent invitation to which the other listened to.

“Please just call me Richie.” He said through a chuckle, his chest rising and falling slowly.

Eddie hummed. “Only if you promise to stop calling me ‘Eds’.”

Richie blinked. Oh, right. “Sorry,” He started, his gaze suddenly shifting away from Eddie’s comforting eyes. “It was just something… I didn’t mean to.” He stumbled over his words, truly unsure as to why he called Eddie ‘Eds’. It had been so long, the memories felt like dreams now.

 

“Promise. I won’t.” He finished with a smile. He looked back at Eddie, but the man was already fast asleep, the sunlight cascading over his cherub-like features. Richie’s fingers gently brushed a few strands of hair from Eddie’s face, humming softly as he admired the beautiful man. 

 

A subconscious smile pulled on his lips as he rested down next to Eddie. The angel’s arm draped over the other’s middle, pulling him close to his own body. As he closed his eyes, Richie felt an unspeakable peace wash over him, warming his body like the rising sun. Tranquility surrounded him as he fell asleep, and the two heavenly lovers finally able to coexist. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY I TOOK SO LONG I HOPE IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT!!!
> 
> please lmk what you thought <3333


	10. IX.I Recrudesce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude
> 
> Remember the angels.

_ 27 years prior… _

_ ‘I love you! I’ve always loved you!’ _

_ ‘Baby, please wait! I’ll come find you!” _

_ ‘No, Richie! No. Stay down there. Don’t you dare come back.’ A hand pressed to his chest, the weight heavy against him. Suddenly, he was pushed backward, falling, falling, falling, falling, closer and closer to the ground until— _

 

Eyes opened, the air suddenly sucked from his lungs. The King raised himself from his bed, gasping as if he was suffocated. He rested back against the pillows, his hand absentmindedly holding onto the sapphire and gold necklace that hung loosely around his neck, the one he hadn’t taken off in almost two centuries. His gaze moved to the window, the sky still pitch and the moon still high. As his fingers traced over the chain, a weight fell in his stomach. 

He glanced at the figure that rested next to him. Ignoring it, he pushed himself off the mattress. Richie was aware of what he had to do, or what he would attempt to do. He dressed quickly, leaving the palace with only the moon to guide his path.

**..**

Fingers wrapped around the blue sapphire. Energy pulsed through him. His eyes closed as he let the power wash over him, making his skin prickle with goosebumps and his heart stutter. His eyes fluttered open, looking onto the open shore. The waves tickled his bare feet, beckoning him in closer, but he wasn’t interested in going out. He wanted to go up. 

 

His eyes drifted to the sky, wide and wanting desperately to reach the clouds above. The moonlight washed over his scarred skin, his body lit with a halo of white light from the heavens above. His eyes closed again, basking in its embrace for a moment. He swallowed thickly, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with trepidation. With shaking hands, Richie removed the pendant from around his neck.

 

A painful cry left his lips. He choked on the sound. Richie crumpled to his knees, head dropping. His fists dug into the earth beneath him, the wet sand caking under his nails and morphing with his hands. Shoulders rolled. Back arched. Bones contorted. 

It sounded like snapping, the sound of his shoulder blades. They began to shift. The movement was slow and out of practice after centuries of dormancy. As his bones moved, Richie’s jaw dropped open, a warbled bewailing reverberating around him over the sound of the crashing waves. The bones in his shoulder blades began to elongate, transforming, slowly, into what once were wings. The fabric of his tunic began to tear, the angel’s wings unfolding. Feathers began to shed around him, covering the King in a sea of white. As they grew, Richie’s body trembled. Blood began to thicken around the protrusion of his wings, staining his beautiful white wings red.

 

Instinctively, the large appendages inclosed their trembling keeper, shaking with the body they were given. Richie whimpered, tears pricking from his eyes. Slowly, the angel began to rise, his breath heavy as he got to his feet. The moon still gleamed above him, the halo of light seeming to grow in the appearance of his true form. His wide wet eyes looked to the source of light, face painted with pain and sorrow. Looking to the heavens made his heart tremble with despair.  

 

That is where he longed to be. 

_ Home.  _

 

Feet planted on the ground. Eyes looked to the stars, Richie took in a deep breath. His wings rose in preparation, though unease rested in his stomach at the idea. Fingers curled inwards, his right fist still tightly clutching the sapphire.

 

With another breath, he took off. The ache in his shoulder blades made him groan. He went slow, riding the wind before fluttering his wings again to gain height. The repetition lessened the pain on his limbs. The wind carried him up, up, up, wings flapping with all their might. His eyes were on the heavens. His heart trembled. Tears began to well in his eyes, a smile coming to his face as he got higher and higher.  

 

“I’m almost there!” His broken voice cried into the void. “I’m almost home, Baby!” 

He wasn’t entirely certain who he was addressing. 

 

Tears were lost in the wind. Richie was unsure if they were caused by the cool air or his complete euphoric state. He kept going, wings beating as hard as they could. He dove in the sky, a liberating cry escaping him. His wings spread out, riding the wind with glee. A wide smile spread on his face, looking at the waves below and then to the sky above.

Richie howled into the wind, beating his wings and getting higher into the sky. Determination set in his brows as he looked up, eyes to the stars and the void. Joy buzzed in him, thrilled to return home, return to what he had forgotten, whatever that was.

His wings kept moving, still looking up. Fixed on the stars, the angel felt he was getting nowhere fast. Wings beat faster, stronger. Guts of wind propelled him forward, up and up and up, but still, he was stuck in the clouds. His wings flapped again, beginning to become tired with the constant push upwards. The movement made his body tired, and though Richie swore he could touch the heavens, a larger part of him knew he couldn’t get ‘home’. His body began to hurt, left hand reaching out as if grabbing the clouds would make the journey smoother. Tears began to blur his vision, their stream beginning to overflow as his body ached with toil. His fingers extended outwards, craving to touch the heavens.

 

Falling. The beating of his wings ceased. The wind stopped. Silence surrounded him.

Falling. Wide eyes stayed fixed on the heavens as he began to fall backward. 

Falling. The clouds slipped between his fingers. Gravity tugged at his body.

Falling. His wings encircled him, bracing himself as he got closer and closer until—

 

Water. The angel’s descent slowed, but with the weight of his wings, it did not cease. For a moment, he bargained with himself, wondering if clawing his way to the top was worth it. Under the waves, he was safe. Every sound drowned beneath the waves pulled under like bodies and silenced with its suffocation. Richie was in the perfect tranquility of oblivion. The complete submersion into cool water made him feel light, at peace. The slow rocking lulled him, but still taking him further and further away from the heavens. 

 

Eyes opened, the sliver of moonlight barely illuminating the water. As he drifted, it began to dim, almost impossible to see in the murk. Water strangled the light with every tug of the tide until the dim light was nothing but a speck. The darkness began to make his heart pick up. Lungs tightened, suddenly aching for air. 

With all his might, Richie clawed his way up, but the weight of his wings made it impossible to move. Though he kept pushing, his wings made his pace strenuously slow. Still, his arms flailed, grabbing fistfuls of Ocean to reach the surface. His eyes were fixed on the light, though the salt of the water made his eyes burn and his vision blurred. 

 

Fingers reached over the water, once again grasping for the air as he surfaced. His head bobbed up with a gasp, his wings flailing frantically in the sea. Richie looked around, disoriented by the fall. Worry rested on his brow, trying to stay afloat. His water weighted wings kept dragging him below after taking him so high. The King searched the horizon, finally finding distant lights of his familiar kingdom. The sight made the tension subside. 

 

Richie moved to reach out his right arm to start his journey back, only to find his fist still clutching the pendant. Quickly, he slipped the jewelry over his head, and with it, his wings retracted. Richie groaned at the feeling, the shock making his body shake. He began to back to shore. The speed was faster than he imagined, the waves pushing him onward back to shore with gentle, quick movements as if wanting to spit the creature of the sky and land back onto the place he belonged. 

 

After what felt like eons to his tired limbs, Richie crawled back to shore, his garments soaked and his body shaking from the cold. Once his fists dug into dry sand, he laid back, looking up at the moon. The sight of the heaven created a weight in Richie’s throat, pressing down until he finally was able to push it back with a choked sob. 

 

The noise erupted into a cry, making Richie sit up, knees pulled inward. His head lowered, wet hair framing his face as he began to cry. His heart ached with the need of someone, and when he looked to the moon and the stars for answers, all they brought back were terrible mournful feelings. And so, the King mourned. He mourned for what he had forgotten, what he didn’t know, the memories that broke him a mere blur in his mind, and yet, in his heart, Richie felt an unspeakable pain. With every sob, his body trembled, arms tugging and clawing at his skin to pull himself closer and closer.

He wailed, head tossed back and fingers gripping the chain around his neck.

 

“I’m  _ sorry _ !” He bellowed into the ocean and up to the heavens. Tears cascaded down his face. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I wanna go home!” He babbled, lips stretching like a rubber band as he sobbed to the clouds and stars. 

 

“Tuh-take me home… I wah-wanna come back. Pl-please take me huh-home… pluh- _ please _ !” His voice was a warbled, contorted sob of misery, wide eyes fixed on the things above. He shook with pain, choking on his tears. The void of ocean and sea swallowed every scream that ripped from the King’s throat, raw and torn with toil. He began to catch his breath in short, shallow gasps, the noises sounding like hiccups with the rise and tremble of his shoulders. His brown tearful eyes looked up to the moon.

 

“Pl-please…”

He curled inward on himself, head lowered once more as he wept apologies to someone, something, he had forgotten. The pleas were hoarse, trembling and misshapen, hidden under sniffling and whimpers.

 

The King sat by the shoreline, watching the moon make its nightly journey across the stars to marry the seas. He stayed, staring at the beautiful dance of the ocean and the moon on the horizon. The sky went from black to dark blue; the moon crept lower and lower, and still, the King stayed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaaack ;)


End file.
